


Mixtape

by LittleTime



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Dab is a Cool Kid TM, Evan is my sunshine child please protect him, M/M, Teen!Dab, Teen!Evan, angst angst and even more angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-10-17 21:59:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10603104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleTime/pseuds/LittleTime
Summary: Music has a way of expressing the feelings you can't express yourself.A fanfic in which Dab and Evan decide to declare their feelings to each other through mixtapes.





	1. The King of Carrot Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> The first song is King of Carrot Flowers, by Neutral Milk Hotel. This chapter focus mostly on the first part of the song.

Sometimes, when life got him down, Dab liked to remember his childhood. Walking around the house, pestering innocent nannies, playing with toys, discovering the world. It usually helped him escape the stress of homework, exams or whatever else was making him feel restless or uneasy. 

Only now, it wasn't really helping him, since Evan, his best friend since diapers, was now his biggest problem.

He hadn't done anything wrong, not really. If you don't count being absolutely adorable as a crime, of course. 

Dab wasn't sure of how he came to realize just how much he loved Evan. He was pretty sure they were just sitting on his kitchen counter one day, eating leftovers and talking, and he thought that he wouldn't mind doing that forever, as long as it was Evan in front of him, reading a book and laughing at his stupid jokes. And now he couldn't sleep at night, he couldn't form a complete sentence when in front of him and he didn't know what to do.

Because now, he couldn't even go back to that happy place on his mind, because Evan was an important part of it. When you know someone since you were toddlers, they simply become an important part of your memories. He was sticked to him, impossible to extract. 

He had considered his options. Maybe he could fake his own death. Maybe he could get a fake mustache, a new name and get a fresh start in a place far, far away from it all.

The situation was so grave he even had to talk about his problem to his parents, telling them about how he had a crush on someone they clearly didn't know and definitely didn't live across the street and obviously wasn't the son of two of their closest friends. And his dad, of course, offered a few more ideas.

\- I could build a time capsule, and then you'd get inside, fall asleep for 100 years or something, and then when you came out... - Dil was cut off by his wife, who raised an eyebrow and sighed loudly.

\- Have you considered telling your crush about how you feel?

Dab blinked. He hadn't, in fact, considered that. He had been in relationships before, and he had been able to tell his previous crushes about his feelings. But Evan was no normal crush. He was his best friend, and the one person who had been there to help him through all of his life. 

\- But what if they don't like me back? - He asked.

\- As I was saying, this time capsule would...

\- Dil.

\- Sorry, T-bag.

\- Dab, honey, maybe you just need to talk to this person. - He felt his mother's hands running over his hair in a gentle touch. - Whatever you do, you know you'll have our full support. Even if you do, indeed, decide to sleep for 100 years.

Dab smiled and hugged his mom.

\- Thanks. I'll think about it.

Once in the safety of his room, Dab threw himself face first into the bed and pressed the pillow against his mouth as he screamed.

How was he supposed to tell his soulmate he loved him? Things weren't exactly easy like that. 

His parents had met while fishing. Maybe he could ask him to go fishing, like pals usually do, and then declare his love over a bucket of beta fish. Or was that too tacky?

Movies had a ton of good love gestures. What was stopping him from going full 10 Things I Hate About You and start singing Can't Take My Eyes of You in the bleachers? Or showing up at the Pancakes home with a bunch of giant cuecards, Love Actually style? Better yet! Evan loved Disney, maybe he could sing him a sappy song.

No. Those were way too public displays of affection, and there was nothing that Evan hated more. If Dab actually serenaded him in public, he was pretty sure he was getting kicked in the face. 

So it had to be something private, just between them. It had to be personal, sincere. And it couldn't involve Dab romantically serenading Evan, because he didn't know how to sing. But that didn't mean it couldn't involve music. After all, Evan really liked music. He never left his home without his earphones. 

Dab lifted his face from the pillow, feeling the metaphorical lightbulb light above his head.

\- That's it! - He screamed. - A mixtape!

It was just the kind of sappy/old fashioned thing Evan secretly loved. He could even use those really old 80s cassettes, just to give it that cheesy teen movie vibe. He was pretty sure he could find some of those, somewhere. 

All he needed was songs. Something that showed Evan exactly how he felt.

Now he definitely tried needed to jump back into those memories he had tried to run from for weeks. Look at every single detail, try to find something that would help Evan see just how much he meant to him. How he treasured every moment they spent together. How he had loved him since they were children, too innocent and too happy to see if anything was wrong. Because sure, things had been bad when they were kids. Sometimes, Dab's parents struggled to pay the bills. And Evan's parents had their own problems, problems that seemed to destroy the boy from inside. 

But who cared about adults' problems when you're jumping on the monkey bars, or pretending to be astronauts. Although they didn't really played astronauts or anything. What they really liked doing was play as knights and kings, the central characters of a world filled with daring swordfights and fearsome dragons. Dab's plushies had served as pretend princesses many times, and they would turn trees into towers, imagining wicked witches living on top of them, brewing their potions and casting their spells.

Outside of their houses, they weren't helpless little kids, floating to the taste of some higher power. They were strong, they made decisions, they could change their tiny little world.

Meanwhile, inside of their houses... the story was different. They could do nothing but observe.

Dab remembered a night when he heard yelling from the Pancakes home. Loud, angry yelling. His parents looked at each other, wondering what to do. Of course, they fighted. Sometimes over stupid things, sometimes over more serious ones. But they had never had an argument that could be hard from across the street.

\- Poor kid, alone on that house. - Said his mother, shaking her head. - He must be so scared.

Dab didn't want to imagine Evan, standing before his yelling parents. The thought of it made a knot form in his stomach.

After that, he tried his best to make Evan smile. And every smile, every laugh, felt like an award. Like he had done something good for the entire universe just by making that boy smile. 

Sometimes, they would lay out in the lawn and stare at the clouds, giving them shapes ("That one looks like an UFO." "Everything looks like an UFO to you, Dab."). Slowly, as they grew up, and even without realizing, they stopped looking at the sky and started looking at each other. Dab could spend hours just absorbing each detail about Evan's face, from the way his eyebrows furrowed to the way his hair fell over his face. 

He remembered one day that he had ushered closer and let his forehead touch Evan's. Their noses were so close they could feel each other's breathing, and although they hadn't cared at the time, their lips were really close. Just inches apart. If one of them had leaned forward, they would have been touching. Dab was sure that if he was in that position today, he might have lost control for a second. He might just as well lean over and get some rest. God, things had been so much easier before, when he wasn't aware of Evan's lips or his voice of his legs or his eyes or anything, just the way he made him feel happy.

Deep down, Dab had always loved that awkward, shy boy. Sometimes, if he looked him in the eye, he felt like he was seeing his soul. Only Evan's soul was his own. He was looking at a mirror, seeing everything he had ever felt in someone else. Together they had fought imaginary evil witches and dragons, and later teenage hormones and their problems with coming of age. Their bound was something that most people couldn't understand. It was like their minds shared their own little space, a no-mans-land that belonged to both of them at the same time. 

He wished he could be as important to Evan as he was to him. But Dab felt like he had never done anything really nice for Evan, anything that actually helped him. Yes, he made him smile with dumb jokes. But when his parents fought, where was he? Across the street, getting a good nights kiss or being read a bedtime story. 

Dab was sure the Pancakes must have loved each other at one point, at least. His parents told him so. But there was something there that was they didn't want to talk about, some kind of tabboo. 

They would only find out much later that Dab's father and Evan's mother had had... well, they wouldn't exactly call it an affair. It was more of a flirtation, a "will-they-won't-they" kind of thing. Neither of them was even born at that point. It had been a brief, small mistake that didn't really evolve into something bigger. Dab's father met his mother little after it ended, and now Eliza was just a friend to him. 

But Mrs. Pancakes still showed up sometimes, not even knocking or anything. Just... staring at the door. Waiting for something.

Finding out that little dirty secret had left Dab adrift for a while, but he wasn't giving up on Evan just because of some old crusty drama. Truth be told, he wouldn't give up on Evan for anything in this world. 

Two peas in a pod. That's what their mothers used to call them. So close, always near the other. And Dab couldn't imagine a world where it wasn't like that.

The world wasn't perfect, and it never would be. There were grey days where everything felt lost, and people got angry and sad. Between all of it, they were each other's refuge, a place safe from anything the world could hurl at them. A place to wait for the storm to pass, for the sky to get clear. It was good, learning to live with Evan by his side. Learning to swim, learning to read, learning to write. And if anything went wrong... they had each other.

There it was. Something he couldn't leave out of the mixtape. That sweet childhood innocence, all wide sparkling eyes and childish giggling, mixed with those sad days and bad things that never got them down, not really. 

Dab searched for pen and paper in his bedside and scribbled a song title, biting his lip and holding back a smile. 

He was getting somewhere with this, after all. 

Evan Pancakes could get ready, because Dab was coming after him with the power of music.


	2. Swimming in the Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in Evan's POV, and is inspired by the song Swimming in the Moonlight, by Bad Suns.

In movies and books, there's always that one romantic plot where two people who, in normal circumstances, would never fall in love actually end up getting married and living happily ever after. Poor peasant girls who end up with prince charmings. Starcrossed lovers who fall in love despite belonging to enemy families. And, of course, pathetic nerds who somehow catch the attention of the school's most popular person.

The last one had always made Evan angry. Because, in his own experience, popular people never fell in love with geeks. Never.

At that point, he had already come to terms with his ridiculous crush on his best friend. And he was more than a little angry at himself. Was he stupid enough to think Dab would even look at him romantically when half the school's female (and male) population was head over heels for him? He was already lucky they were friends, and that was because they had been front door neighbours since they were kids. 

So he lived with his crush. Everyday, he got out of bed and went to school knowing perfectly well that everytime they crossed paths his heart would jump, and everytime he talked he wouldn't be able to tear his eyes away from his lips. He was used to those butterflies in his stomach. Everyday, he was a man walking to his own slow death, and secretly enjoying it. It was much safer to admire Dab as a friend than try to tell him how he felt. Best case scenario, he would be rejected kindly, and their friendship would continue. Worst case scenario, they would drift apart and he would tell all his friends about that stupid loser that fell in love with him. 

With time, Evan simply accepted his crush, like it was part of nature. The sky was blue, and the grass was green, and Evan Pancakes was pathetically in love with Dab Howlter.

He was ok. Really, he was. At first, it had overwhelmed him, sure. But now, it was just a comfortable weight near his heart. Was he sad everytime Dab became enfatuated with someone else? Sure. Did it frustrate him everytime he suddenly lost his words in front of him? Absolutely. But was he used to it? Yeah. Kinda.

That's why he was ok to hear him talk about his new relationships, and even offer advice. That's why he could spend the entire night awake, just thinking of him, and then act normal at school the next day. That's why he could walk down the corridors of the supermarket with him, helping Dab with some misterious project he refused to talk about.

\- What exactly are you looking for? - Asked Evan after half an hour of mindlessly roaming through the supermarket.

\- Nothing. - Answered Dab.

\- Oh. Great. Good. In that case, can we leave now?

Dab paused for a second, eyeing him with a feeling that neared suspicion. And then, like he was telling him a secret, he leaned in closer and whispered:

\- I'm looking for cassettes.

\- Cassettes? - Evan felt his eyebrows rising. - You do understand we're in the XXI century, right? We have phones now, you know?

\- It's for... a thing.

Dab was always involved in something, projects and ideas. Pranks, or organizing events at school, or parties. Besides, a lifetime spent in his father's lab had made him a little inventor himself. His bedroom was covered in suspicious gadgets and gears, sparkling lights and engines that suddenly started making loud noises without warning. Evan found it charming. Weird, but charming nevertheless.

Eventually, they found the cassettes. Surprisingly, those things were still around. Dab searched the shelves for a few minutes, and came out with a pack of 2 cassettes wrapped around in plastic. 

\- They only sell them in pairs. - He commented. - But I only need one. Do you want the other?

Evan wasn't really sure if he needed a cassette. He mostly used his phone to listen to music, sometimes the stereo if his parents weren't at home. And yet...

\- Sure, why not?

They payed for the cassettes and headed home. Evan stuffed his inside his hoodie, letting his fingers trace the plastic frame. 

Dab didn't say anything about his new project, and Evan didn't ask. Dab was a terrible liar, but he knew how to keep a secret. And he seemed hell bent on keeping this one. 

Once he was home, Evan let the cassette lay on his bed and sat down, thinking. What could Dab possible want to hide from him? They were friends, best friends. They told each other everything. The only thing Dab had ever hid from Evan was a surprise party, which had gone (not surprisingly) wrong, since Dab was Evan's only friend, so he had to resort to invite random people from school, so most of the people invited had no idea whose birthday it actually was. 

In a spurr, he got up and went to his dad's office. After looking for a while, he found what he was looking for: a cassette player. His father was the only person in the world who still had those things unironically.  

So now, he could listen to his cassette. He only needed to find songs. 

Usually, that wasn't so difficult. Evan loved music, and made thousands of playlists on a regular basis. Playlists for when he was sad, angry, happy, insomniac, needed to concentrate... He had playlists for everything. He even had a playlist for showering. 

But curiously, he didn't have anything for thinking about his ridiculous crush. Dab used Evan's phone regularly, and he was terrified of him accidentally finding out about a playlist full of sappy love songs. But that cassette could be hidden away. Dab would never have to find out about it. After Evan was done with it, it could be tossed into his drawer of shame, where he kept candid photos of Dab and silly drawings they made of each other as children. It was just the right amount of creepy and endearing.

Evan pulled up his phone and started searching his spotify, looking for good songs. Things that reminded him of Dab, of their time spent together. Of the feelings he had been hiding. If he was doing this, he wanted a mixtape that captured all those sleepovers and entire hours on the phone. Their sleepless nights, driving around town in Dab's old car. 

The car had been a present when Dab got his license. The Howlters couldn't afford anything too expensive, so they got this old piece of junk that Dab and Mr. Howlter repaired in their free time. The car had always smelled like wet dog and oil, no matter how much perfume they sprayed on it's insides, but Dab loved it like it was his own child. He even insisted on calling it Susan, for some reason. Evan couldn't stretch his legs in there, and "Susan" was famous for breaking down spontaneously (because Evan was pretty sure the Howlters definition of "repairing" was just sticking some duct tape here and there and calling it a day). At this point, it was running not on gas, but on their faith and prayers. But if Dab loved that car, who was Evan to tell him it was the most terrible thing that had ever scorched the face of Earth?

He remembered once, Dab showed up at his doorstep and asked him to come ride around with him. Exams were coming closer, and he was eating himself away with stress. 

Evan had to study, of course. And he knew his parents would be pissed if they knew he was spending the night with his best friend instead of studying. Still, he climbed into Susan and listened as Dab started rambling. Dab very rarely tried to talk about his problems, always scared he would overwhelm people. Evan thought that maybe that was why they were best friends: Dab's other friends didn't really care about him when he was sad or feeling down. To them, he only existed as a ball of happiness and sunshine, the life of the party. Evan knew how good it felt to be able to feel sad in front of someone without them judging you or trying to talk over you. So he listened.

The clock told him it was 11 pm, almost midnight. He knew that if he looked at his phone, he would find tons of missed calls from his mother, and messages asking him where he was. But Dab was finally looking calmer, and they had left their houses behind long ago, and the wind coming from his open window was cold, but still good. It was perfect.

And then, of course, Susan broke down.

In a second, the motor simply stopped working, falling quiet. The headlights went off, the wheels stopped rolling. They stared at each other for a second, before truly understanding what was going on: they were alone, with no car, on the middle of nowhere. 

\- Oh, god damnit. - Sighed Dab, resting his face against the wheel. - What are we going to do now?

\- I'm not calling my parents! - Screamed Evan. He could only imagine what would happen if his parents found him in a broke car in a lonely road, instead of in his room, studying. 

\- Fine. I'll see if my mother picks up.

Evan sighed and fell against his seat as Dab got out of the car and dialed his mother's number. 

During their ride, he didn't realize just how scary the florest was at night. The trees, dark and imposing, rose against the dark blue sky like spears, trapping them. For miles and miles, the only thing he could see was stretches of dusty roads and bushes. In a moving car, the landscape looked dreamy. Stranded, it was just the perfect place to get brutally murdered by a serial killer.

Dab came back into the car a few minutes later, and let his head fall over Evan's shoulder. His hair tickled his face.

\- I'm sorry.

\- Hey, don't be. It's not your fault. When will your mom be here?

\- Well, it'll take a while. To be perfectly honest, I have only a general idea of where we are, so she may have to search for us for a little bit.

Evan groaned, hitting his head against the dashboard.

\- My parents are going to kill me. I may as well go outside and dig my own grave.

It was getting cold now. It was no time for two boys, dressed only in t-shirts, to be outside. Evan cursed himself for not bringing a jacket, and Susan for not having heating. The skin on his arms was full of goosebumps, his hands were shaking. 

Dab opened the door, without a word, and started walking in circles around the car.

\- What, in God's name, are you doing?

\- Walking helps you get warm. - He responded, as he passed through his window. - It's more helpful than it looks. You should try it.

Evan whinned, but ended up stepping outside and immitating his friend. And although he would never admit it, walking really helped. They just made circles for some time, in complete silence, and then Dab spoke:

\- You know, I think there's a lake somewhere around here. - He said. - Maybe we could go there. I'm kind of tired of walking in circles.

\- We'll get lost. You have no idea of where we are!

\- I have a general idea! It's better than nothing! - Evan was about to remind him of just how terrible his sense of orientation was, listing all the times he had got them lost, but before he could start, Dab marched into he trees, disappearing into the darkness. 

He had two options. Stay there and let Dab get lost and eaten by a bear (if anyone had the bad luck to get eaten by a bear, it was definitely Dab), or die with his best friend. 

Well, his parents couldn't kill him if he was lost forever in the woods, could they? Maybe he could pull a Jumanji and disappear for a few decades!

\- Wait up! - He screamed, jogging next to Dab. As soon as Susan was out of sight, Evan knew he had probably made a big mistake. The florest ground was covered with creeping roots, just getting ready to trap his feet and make him fall. To someone was gangly and clumsy as Evan, it was a nightmare.

He was actually getting scared when Dab stopped in front of him, making them shock against each other. He felt his friend's hands wrapping around his wrists, pulling him forward.

\- Here it is. - In front of him, a big lake reflected the pale moonlight, making the  crystal water look like liquid silver. Although a part of Evan knew the water was probably filled with frogs and water snakes, the other part was pretty amazed with the whole scenario. - I used to come here sometimes, to blow steam off. 

\- It's... beautiful. - Said Evan, sneaking a look to Dab's face, all big smile and glistening eyes. 

He didn't expect Dab to kneel down and untie his shoes, and he certainly didn't expect him to take his shirt off without warning. Then, just like that, he was unzipping his pants, and Evan couldn't look away. He quickly turned away when he realized his cheeks were burning and his mouth was hanging open. 

\- Oh, you've seen me undressed before.

\- Just... w-what are you doing?! - Asked Evan. His voice was pathetically squeaky, and he honestly hoped Dab didn't notice it.

\- I'm going swimming.

\- Wasn't the whole point of this walk keeping warm?!

He heard the sound of water splashing around, and Dab giggling. And just like that, a wave of cold water hit Evan in the back, making him screech. The fabric of his t-shirt clinged to his skin, and he turned to Dab, without even thinking of how red his face probably was.

\- Oops. Now that you're also wet, you have to join me.

Evan was a logical person. He knew that going skinny dipping in cold weather was a bad idea, especially if he had no towels or way to go home. He had seen The Day After Tomorrow, thank you very much, and he knew hypothermia was no fun.

But in front of him was Dab, with water by his chest and a dumb smile, his long hair already touching the water. And without even realizing it, Evan let his shirt fall on the dirt. If he thought it couldn't get colder, he was wrong.

\- Turn around. - Dab laughed and dove into the water, disappearing for a few seconds. With shaking hands, Evan got rid of the rest of his clothes and ran into the water. For a moment, he felt like his bones would freeze. Surprisingly, he found the courage to dive in, coming back up next to his best friend. His hair sticked to the sides of his face, and he was now wondering just how cold you had to get to enter hypothermia.

Still, it was fun, he couldn't deny it. Even though he was shaking, there was a warm feeling in his chest, as he floated in the water, face to face with Dab, with their breathing appearing in clouds above their heads and the moon casting a dreamlike glow over them. 

Evan knew he wasn't much of a looker. No one at school even looked at him twice. But Dab... God, he was beautiful. Long, curly hair, and those big doe eyes that always managed to twist Evan's insides. The worst part was that he walked around like he had no idea of how many heads he was turning. He was like a magnet, and the people around him were nothing but paper clips.

No, no, he was much more than that. He was... He was...

\- Evan? - Asked Dab, in a husked tone.

\- Y-Yeah? - He felt Dab's hand touch his shoulder, and his mouth getting closer to his ear. His breath was over his neck, he opened his mouth...

\- Tag, you're it! - Evan stood still for a moment, not sure of what was happening, as Dab dived into the water and swam away. A smile creeped across his face as he left out a scream and started swimming after his friend. He forgot the cold, he forgot Susan, left alone on the road. His better judgement and common sense had simply vanished as his arms and legs pushed him through the water, closer and closer to Dab.

After a lot of swimming and a lot of cursing, Evan finally catched up to him. He was tired, but happy. His smile was so wide it hurted his cheeks. 

\- Jesus... Christ... - He was breathless from the exercise. - Only... you... could convince me to do something like this.

Evan left himself fall on top of Dab, without thinking about it. As soon as their chests collided, he knew he was making a mistake. His cheeks were burning again. 

There he was, skinny dipping with his best friend/crush, with his shin resting in the space between said crush's neck and shoulder, breathing heavily. In normal circumstances, he would have pulled away. But Dab seemed to irradiate warmth, and that was just what he needed. So why not go the extra mile and throw his arms around Dab's shoulders, pulling him closer? In a completely heterosexual and platonic way, of course?

He could only hope his heart wasn't beating as fast as he thought it was. Was it too obvious that he was enjoying this hug too much? Evan didn't like displays of affection that much, but this was Dab. The warmth of his body, the feeling of his hair under Evan's fingers... It was just perfect. Evan never described anything as perfect, but this was. If he could change anything about it, he wouldn't. Not even Susan's broke engine, or even that freezing cold that was still making them shake. They didn't even have to talk, even breathing seemed unnecessary. 

In that moment, Evan truly understood there was no way out. He could try convince to himself his crush would disappear with time, but this was the proof that he was never moving on. How could he ever expect to find something like this ever again? Loving someone the way he loved Dab was rare, loving someone in that way where you're not sure if you can even love them more than you already do. 

They were much more than a cliché romantic plot about a quiet kid falling in love with a more outgoing counterpart. No, in that moment it was much more than that. Evan could swear that in that moment Dab was the moon, and the water surrounding them, and the sounds of the nature, crickets singing and branches dancing in the wind.  He was the entire universe.

Evan felt a hand running over his back, pulling him closer. His cheek was next to Dab's, he could feel the other boy's skin burning too. Maybe, just maybe...

He had already lost his mind that night. That was the only explanation Evan found later for closing his eyes and letting his hands slide up until they were on the sides of Dab's face. If Evan didn't know better, he might have said that he was about to kiss him when two headlights interrupted them. Evan jumped back, almost drowning in the process. There was a car in front of the lake.

Suddenly, all the scenarios of serial killers murdering them in the woods came rushing back. And then, Mrs. Howlter stepped out of the car, and Evan wondered if it was better or worse, since he didn't really want to explain why he was in the middle of frenching her son sans clothes. 

Thankfully, she didn't ask.

\- Why did you two think this was a good idea? - She asked. Dab opened his mouth to explain, but she stopped him with an angry look. - I think I have towels in the car. Dab, if Evan gets a cold you'll go yourself to the Pancakes house and explain to them what happened. 

Only a few minutes later, they were sitting in the back of Mrs. Howlter's car, wrapped in towels and with their clothes on their laps. They didn't trade a word for the entire time, but Evan still felt like his chest was on fire. He sneaked a few looks in the other boy's direction. He was staring at his lap, with his mouth slightly open. Evan wasn't sure of what to think. 

Mrs. Howlter was kind enough to stop the car a few blocks away from his house and let him get dressed before she dropped him off. Evan shot a scared look towards his house, thankful to not see any lights on. It was quite easy to sneak, since his parents had gone to bed hours before. 

Now that he remembered things like that, Evan understood why he loved Dab. He was always pushing him to leave his comfort zone, always trying to make him happy. Evan was pretty sure Dab would do anything just to make him smile, and he was thankful. So thankful that of all the people in the world that he could have been in unrequited love with, somehow he had ended up with Dab. So thankful that the universe had decided that they would live across from each other. 

He smiled. Sometimes, being a fool in love was actually good.


	3. Karaoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, chapter 3. Back at Dab's POV, inspired by the song Karaoke, by Smallpools. Enjoy!

One week. One entire week spent looking for every possible song that could fit Evan.

It was frustrating. You only start to realize how many love songs are actually about sex and toxic relationships until you actually start looking for a song that just says “Hey, I think you’re awesome and I want to hold your hand”. Why were artists always so sad?

Dab didn’t want his mixtape to have those kind of songs about how love is terrible and we’re all doomed to heartbreak. Like always, he wanted to have a positive outlook. He wanted happy songs, songs about butterflies in his stomach and sweaty palms and giggling like an idiot. Still, he didn’t want anything too cliché like “Let’s get married right now and ride into the sunset”. God, why was being romantic so hard?

It was getting so bad his friends were actually started to get worried. Especially because it had been one week and he was still devoted to that secret project he refused to communicate with anyone.

\- Are you building a bomb? – Asked  Scotty, one of his friends, once they were having lunch all together.

\- What? – Dab blinked, confused. – No! Of course not! Why would you even think that?!

\- Well, for starters, you have a mad knowledge of mechanical stuff. Second, you’ve been acting weird all week. And last, but not least, I haven’t seen you dedicated to anything like... ever.

\- That’s nonsense. I dedicate myself heart and soul to everything!

\- Yeah. For two hours, tops. – Scoffed Alicia, another member of the group. – Remember when you tried to learn guitar?

\- Or when you tried to star knitting?

\- And let’s not get on photography.

\- Fine! – Dab threw his arms up in defeat. – I’m just working on something very private, and I want it to be perfect, ok?

His friends traded suspicious looks. Not once in the history of mankind had Dab Howlter tried to be a perfectionist. He turned in school papers with ketchup stains. He used mismatched socks. He had been seen sipping coffee from a bowl when all the mugs were dirty, acting like it was perfectly normal. No wonder he was so stressed: this was probably the first time he ever tried to pay attention to details.

\- My poor little air head. – Sighed Alicia. – Do you know what you need?

\- 15 hours just straight up sleeping?

\- No, no, no. – She shaked her head, smilling. – You, my friend, need a night out. C’mon, we haven’t had fun in ages! And it’s Friday!

Dab stopped to think for a moment. It was the second Friday of the month, and that was movie night with Evan. He never skipped movie night with Evan, because he knew what it would mean: sad, disappointed eyes. Nothing broke Dab's heart more than Evan's disappointed eyes. It was the emotional equivalent of being stabbed with a sword made of sadness.

Although, there was a solution...

\- Fine. – He said, finally. – But I have to take Evan with me.

His friends traded a quick look between them. Dab was fully aware they didn’t know how to act around Evan. His friends were the stereotypical golden children with a wild side, dividing their time through extracurricular activities and partying the weekends away, never spending a minute sitting still. They were loud, extroverted, and talked over quieter people without even realizing it. Dab loved them, but sometimes they could be exhausting.

\- Uh... sure? Why not? – Said Scotty, although his voice showed more doubt than certainty. Still, Dab smiled.

\- Great. See you later, guys!

With those words, Dab got up and made his way towards his locker, where Evan was waiting with a stack of DVDs in his hands.

\- Ok, so I narrowed our options for tonight down to three movies. – He said, without even looking up. – Also, I’m warning you: I am not watching The Good Dinosaur again. 

\- What?! – Asked Dab, forgetting why he was coming there to talk to him. – Why?!

\- Because we’ve watched what, 10 times?

\- It’s a cinematic masterpiece!

\- It’s a movie for children.

\- _You’re_ a movie for children! – Dab shook his head. – Besides... I kinda want to talk to you about movie night...

Evan looked up, with fear in his eyes.

\- You’re ditching me, aren’t you?

\- No, never! So you can’t stop with the sad puppy eyes.

\- I do not have sad puppy eyes.

\- First of all, you do. Second of all, don’t sidetrack me. – Dab cleared his voice, smiling. – So, I’ve been talking to the crew and they decided we should all go to the Blue Velvet tonight! You included! Doesn’t it look like fun?

 _Oh, God, I’ve made a mistake._ Thought Dab, as he saw Evan’s face turn into a weird expression, like he hadn't quite heard what Dab had said or was wondering what he had smoked.

\- The Blue Velvet? The nightclub? Are... Are you sure?

He should have thought better about it. He definitely hadn’t thought that one through.

\- But if you don’t want to go, we can stay home and watch a movie! – Said Dab, as quickly as he could. – It’s your choice, really!

\- No, no... – Said Evan, shaking his head slightly. – I’ll go... I guess...

\- You don’t sound so sure about that. – The bell rang, and students started filling the hallway, trying to get to their classes. Evan started walking to his classroom, and Dab followed. – Seriously, if you don’t feel comfortable doing this...

\- I’ll be fine. You don’t need to baby me. – He sounded a little annoyed, which made Dab feel even wrose. – See you later.

Later, after showeing and eating dinner with his parents, Dab was ready to go. His mother gave him a kiss on the cheek, his father gave him a hug. Before he closed the door, he saw his father changing the lamp to a dim pink color, and he knew what that meant. At least his parents would also be having fun.

Evan was already waiting outside, next to Susan. 

\- Ready? - Asked Dab, opening the door for him. Evan nodded, sitting down. However, he still looked nervous. - Hey, don't worry. If we get tired we can head home early. We'll just spend some time there, dance a little, chat a little, I'll tell them all the embarassing stories I have about you...

Evan scoffed. Finally, a reaction.

\- Please. I'm the one with the good public humiliation material here. I know all of your dirty secrets.

\- Oh, that's nice. So you won't mind if I tell everybody how you refused to wear pants until you were 6, right?

\- No, not at all. Because then I can tell everybody how you ended up in the hospital after sliding down your house's roof that time when we were 12.

\- Because _you dared me_.

\- I have no idea of what you're talking about.

They laughed, throwing their heads back, and Dab started the car. 

The Blue Velvet was surprisingly full of people, both teenagers and adults. Dab took a while to spot his friends, sitting by the bar, but as soon as they saw him they started waving. He saw their mouths opening and closing, as if they were talking and laughing, but the music was too loud for their words to reach him. The only thing he could hear was Evan's voice by his ear, mumbling quietly about how much he hated crowds full of sweaty people.

\- Hey guys! - Said Alicia, throwing her arms around Dab and giving him a hug. - Have you seen the stage?

\- Stage? - Asked Dab. - What stage? 

\- Haven't you heard? It's karaoke night! 

A lot of things happened in the second after Alicia said that. Dab's face lighted up like a christmas three of the 25th of December. Evan started shaking his head violently at him. The two boys trated a look that seemed like an entire discussion with no words. The people around them wondered what was going on. Finally, they started talking again.

\- Dab, no.

\- Dab, yes.

\- You sing like a whale giving birth to quadruplets. 

\- Have you ever heard a whale giving birth to quadruplets? No. So who are you to say?

\- I've never heard a whale giving birth to quadruplets, but I imagine it sounds like you singing! Dab, where are you going? Dab, come back here!

Too late. He was already making his way to the stage, where a bar employee was writing the names of the people who wanted to participate in karaoke. By the time Evan reached Dab, their names were already written, and Dab had a bright smile on his face.

\- Please tell me you didn't.

\- I did. - Said Dab. - But don't worry, I picked an amazing song. 

\- Care to tell me what song it is? - Evan asked, but Dab only giggled. It would be a surprise, really, it would. He couldn't wait to see the look on Evan's face...

Soon, after a few people sang, a voice from the stage called their names. Dab jumped, pulling Evan behind him as they went up the stage and someone handed them microphones. 

\- Can you please tell me what's the song now?

\- Let's just say it'll make you feel like... an all-star.

Fear. Horror. Betrayal. Dab saw all those feelings flash across Evan's face in a matter of seconds, in such a display of genuine emotion that would be worthy of an Oscar. And then, the music started, and Dab started singing.

\- SomeBODY ONCE TOLD ME THE WORLD WAS GONNA ROLL ME!

\- No, no, no. I'm not doing this.

\- I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed! - Dab laced his arm around Evan's shoulder, trapping him in a bear hug. - She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb, in the shape of an L on her forehead!

He let his eyes meet Evan's, recreating the sad puppy look that his best friend had used as a weapon for so long. Slowly, his features started to relax, and he rolled his eyes before taking the microphone closer to his mouth.

\- Well, the years start coming, and they don't stop coming...

It was surprisingly beautiful, seeing Evan slowly starting to have fun. The way his shoulders seemed to loose some tension, how he even did a little awkward dance, that was basically just waggling a little like a penguin. 

And he looked fantastic under the lights of the club. A group of lights with different colors had been set up over the stage, and every color seemed to bring out something in Evan that Dab had somehow never noticed in all those years. How the blue light bringed out how dark his hair was. How the red light made the blush on his cheeks look even stronger. How the yellow light bringed out how warm his eyes were. 

He felt invencible, standing next to him, with the people in the crowd laughing. He felt like he was in a movie, all of his worries disappearing, vanishing from his mind as he singed, the words coming strangled from the laughter rising from the back of his throat. 

Being there, with the boy he loved next to him... It was like standing on the top of a skyscaper, or flying in the sky. Being next to Evan was like a shot of adrenaline to Dab, it made his stomach fill up with warmth and ecstasy, like they suddenly weren't human, but something more. They didn't have to worry about anything but each other, but the lights shining over their heads. It was so fantastic, so dreamlike, but also so _real_.

Neither he or Evan knew how to sing, and their voices were completely out of tune. But he liked the way they sounded together, silly and happy, sometimes forgetting the lyrics or mixing them up. By the end of the song, they were more laughing than singing, carrying each other as they left the stage, passing the mic to Alicia and a few of her friends, who climbed on stage and started picking their own song. 

\- I felt like a rockstar. - Laughed Dab.

\- I felt like Shrek.  

\- Get outta my swamp.

\- Stop ruining the moment.

With their arms over each others shoulders, the two boys made their way out of the nightclub. Dab didn't usually leave so early, but somehow it felt like he had done all that he had to do there: seeing Evan and making him smile. He just loved that little grin he had, without even showing his teeth, just a little twist of the lips. 

They were alone outside, Dab's friends hadn't even noticed them leaving. They rested their backs against the car, looking at the stars. The music from inside was still loud, but the walls muffled it enough to make it just pleasant enough for them. Neither of them spoke for a few moments, just enjoying the moment. 

Dab let his head fall to the side. He was lucky, indeed, to be with that boy. His flushed face, his closed eyes, his little smile. It was almost too much for Dab's heart.

He could forget the mixtape, if he only opened his mouth and told him what he felt. He didn't have to make a big speech, he just had to open his mouth and say "I love you". So simple. So easy.

\- Evan... - He said. The other boy opened his eyes lazily, turning his face to look at him. How had Dab never noticed his eyelashes? They were so long, they brushed against his skin when he blinked. He could look at him forever.

\- Dab? Are you ok?

No, he wasn't. He definitely wasn't ok. Just like that, he felt his courage run away. He couldn't look him in the eyes and wait for rejection. Evan was happy. For once, he was definitely happy, no shadow on his mind. How could Dab even dare to ruin the night for him, throwing him those feelings? 

It was driving him insane, being so close to Evan. Looking at him, being next to him, feeling his smell of vanilla and soap. It was just too much. 

\- Let's... let's go home. - He said, opening the door. 

\- Didn't you want to tell me anything?

Yes, he did. He had entire Shakespeare sonnets ready to spill out of his mouth, but he knew that if he started he wouldn't be able to stop. It would be like piercing a balloon with a needle, all the air would spit out, leaving a shell of rubber behind. 

\- Forget about it. - Dab waved a hand, turning his face away. - Just forget about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rule of thumb: bfs who sing All-Star together, stay together.  
> Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, because I haven't written anything angst-y in months and now it's time. Prepare.


	4. St. Patrick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, guys, gals and nonbinary pals! This chapter is inspired by St. Patrick, a song by the band PVRIS. Enjoy!

He had sent him 10 messages. He had responded to none.

Evan sighed, letting his head fall over his hands, elbows on the table. In front of him was his bowl of cereal, practically untouched. He was sitting alone in his kitchen, the sound of his parents arguing coming from somewhere around the house. For once, the sinking feeling in his stomach had nothing to do with his parents fighting. For the first time in a very long time, he was sad because of his best friend.

As he bit his lip and tapped his fingers on the table, Evan thought why Dab wasn't talking to him. There was no need to jump to conclusions. They hadn't spoken for the entire weekend, and maybe something had happened that he wasn't aware of. Maybe Dab lost his phone. It wouldn't be the first time he left something behind after leaving some place. Evan was used to carry a second jacket with him whenever they went somewhere, because there was always a 50% chance that Dab would forget his own. He had seen Mrs. Howlter doing the same for her husband, so he was pretty sure it was a family thing.

Still... there was something wrong. He could feel it in his gut.

He glanced at the clock, realizing that it was already time to leave and he hadn't eaten his breakfast. With a resignated shrug, he put the bowl in the sink and grabbed his backpack, leaving the house without even saying a word. His parents' voices followed him even after he closed the front door, hissing and screaming. He shot an envious look towards the Howlter home, where Mr. and Mrs. Howlter were just now leaving, parting with a quick kiss. 

Susan was still parked in front of the Howlter's home, but Dab's bike was gone. Evan's eyebrows knitted closer together.

They went to school together almost everyday. And if one of them had to be there sooner or later than usual, they would send a message in advance. A knot started forming on his throat, his anxiety rising and wrapping it's hands around him, like a grim reaper.

Evan made his own way towards the school, nails digging deeper into the palms of his hands with each passing second.

He turned his head towards the sky, looking at the dark grey clouds forming above him. The bad weather definitely went with his mood, dark and gloomy. After Evan walked into the school building, he saw the first snowflakes falling. Soon, the whole town would be covered in white.

The hallways were full, as always. Students rushing to meet their friends or struggling to finish their homework, talking and walking, all completely unaware of Evan's presence and misery. He was invisible to those people, a quiet kid who passed unnoticed as he made his way towards his locker. It usually didn't disturb him as much as it did that day.

His stomach screamed, and he remembered he hadn't eaten breakfast yet. With a sigh, Evan marched towards the vending machine in the cafeteria and bought a granola bar. When he turned around to go back to his locker, he saw him, sitting on the floor, listening to music on his phone, his curly hair falling over his face in that way that always made Evan's insides twist. He walked over to Dab, but as soon as the other boy saw him, he grabbed his things and left.

Evan stopped in the middle of the hallway, grabbing his substitute breakfast and letting his mouth slightly drop as he watched Dab drift away between the other students. When the bell rang, he was still standing there, a little confused and hurt.

Later, sitting in class, he thought about what had happened, and he realized he shouldn't have been so surprised. Evan wasn't religious, but he believed in miracles. And he knew it was a miracle that he had been friends with Dab for so long. Believing they would continue together forever was just stupid of him, when he was just a little star in the sky, in love with a boy who could gather the galaxies around him if he wanted.

Idiot. Stupid idiot.

_Maybe it's time to let go of this crush._ He thought, as the teacher in front of him wrote a series of numbers and letters on the blackboard. Evan's hand moved without him even realizing, copying the symbols into his notebook. 

What was a crush, anyway? A dumb, trivial thing. People got crushed every other day of the week, and it wasn't Evan's fault that his had simply sticked to his heart for so long.

He could find another thing to put his energy into. He was a good student, and could be even better if he spent less time daydreaming about Dab and more time paying attention in class. Like right now: Evan had absolutely no idea of what class he was in, but he knew he would still get one of the best test scores of the class. He rubbed his eyes and faced the teacher, trying to listen.

No use. The words just seemed to get lost somewhere between the teacher's mouth and Evan's ears. After minutes of frustration, he finally raised his hand.

\- May I go to the bathroom?

\- Uh... Yeah, sure. - Answered the teacher, slightly surprised. It was very unusual for Evan to speak in class, and he suspected most teachers could only imagine what his voice sounded like. He got up without a sound and made his way towards the bathroom. Maybe splashing some water in his face would help.

There was no one there, only his reflection, staring back at him with eerie, ghost-like eyes. He leaned over the sink and let the cold water hit his skin, praying that he would emerge as a different person, someone more realistic, who knew what was better for himself and was able to keep his feet on the ground. But when he looked up, those were the same brown eyes facing him. He was still a lovesick teenager who was feeling suffocated by the butterflies in his own stomach.

The door opened behind him as he dryed his face, and he stopped. Behind him there was Dab Howlter.

Dab freezed, one foot in the hallway and the other in the bathroom. And just as he was getting ready to turn back and close the door, Evan shot him a look.

\- Stay where you are, Howlter. - He snarled, flinching internally. He sounded just like his mother.

\- Uh... I just remembered... I have a thing... - Dab mumbled, but stepped inside and closed the door. Evan crossed his arms over his chest, giving him the most intimidating look he could. Which, for Evan Pancakes, looked more like a slightly angry baby pouting.

\- Matter to say why you've been ignoring me?

\- I haven't been ignoring you. - Dab rubbed the back of his neck, bitting his lips.

_Don't look at his lips!_ Thought Evan, quickly looking away. His cheeks were already burning. Great.

\- Oh, really? So running away as soon as you see me is your new way of saying hello? - Dab looked embarassed, keeping his eyes on his feet. - So, what happened?

\- Nothing happened. - Said Dab, with a tone that obviously meant that something had happened. - I just need some time to think about... things.

Things. First, a secret project he refused to share with him and now "things". There had never been "things" between them, they had always known everything about each other. He knew every single one of Dab's little secrets, from every stupid thing he had done to every stupid thing he had thought, and yet that thing he was hiding seemed to loom over them, threatening to swallow them hole.

Evan felt his shoulders shake, and slowly fall.

\- Look, if I did something wrong...

\- No, no, no! - Dab took a step forward, as if he was going to touch him, but stopped in his tracks, a hand dangling just in front of Evan's shoulder. - I can't explain right now. I wish I could, but... Can you meet me at lunch time? In the library? Please?

Despite what Dab had said, he still felt like he had done something wrong. He wasn't sure if he wanted to meet him after, to hear exactly how much of a failure he was.

His head nodded without him even realizing, and Dab's lips twisted, something between a grin and a genuine smile. Evan saw the mass of curly hair walk out the door, feeling the words he wanted to say stuck in his throat.

_Please stay._

Going back to class was hard. The whole world was moving without him, it seemed: his classmates chatted about the snow and how nice it would be if the school closed because of it, while his teachers tried (without use) to keep the class focused. There was too much noise, too many people moving. Evan felt like he was trapped inside a snow globe.

He liked to think about Dab on those moments, usually. His best friend always reminded him of open fields and running up and down monkey bars, green lawns and summer breezes. Thinking about him helped him, most of the times. Dab gave his thoughts something more colorful than the rest of the things his brain could come up with. it was almost a heavenly power, warding off all the anxiety that clouded his judgement. 

When lunch time came, Evan's feet moved to the library in an almost mechanical way. He was hungry, sure, but he still didn't feel like eating. Instead, he pulled a book out of a shelve and sat down at a table, tracing the spine with distracted fingers. The book's cover told him it was about brains, how they worked and what made them so important. 

He started reading without much interest. Everytime he felt like he was starting to get the hang of what he was reading, his mind would suddenly go back to that bathroom, that weird conversation. Or worse, to times Evan remembered being happy with Dab. When they went swimming. That last Friday, at the Blue Velvet. All their visits to the park as children, each one marked by something that Evan couldn't forget, no matter how much he tried. Dab was burned into him.

Finally, a part of the book caught his attention.

_Every emotion we feel can be explained by science. Emotions are simply the effect of certain chemicals in our brains. Even love, often considered a force of nature, if nothing more than a mixture of chemicals: dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, vasopressin... Hormones and such, floating inside our minds and controlling us, telling us who we like and who we don't. And some people actually enjoy that cocktail of chemicals. That's why so many people act like love is a drug: it really is._

How fitting. Evan wished he could treat his feelings in such a way. Take his brain out of his head and remove all those things that were making him catch his breath and making his palms sweaty. If he could see his feelings as nothing more than chemicals, maybe he could walk away from what he felt. 

Maybe that was why Dab had such a calming effect on him. Maybe the other boy had some kind of pheromone, something that no scientist had ever discovered. Something that made the air feel lighter and the room warmer. Something that could dissolve his nerves, turn his bones into melted butter and his judgement into a cloud. 

Even then, he could feel it. That smell of peppermint and sugar that seemed to follow Dab wherever he went.

\- Watcha reading? - Evan jumped in his chair when he noticed Dab's mouth hanging just above his shoulder.

\- Jeez! - He screamed. - Is your plan to give me a heart attack? Is it?

Dab sat in front of him, as Evan closed his book and pushed it to the other side of the table. Besides the bored librarian almost falling asleep in her corner, they were the only people in the school's library. Without any of them talking, the room was in complete silence.

\- I guess I shoud... explain myself. - Started Dab, lowering his eyes.

\- Oh, you do?

\- Look, I know I've been acting like a jerk. - Said Dab, each word leaving his mouth very slowly. - And I know I'm not acting like the friend you deserve. The truth is that... you know, for a while now I've been thinking and...

\- Do you not want to be friends anymore? - Asked Evan, feeling his heart sinking to the floor.

\- What? No! - Dab shook his head. - Of course not, you're my best friend! It's just that... - A pause, a long pause, where Dab looked like some invisible hand was suffocating him - I think I'm in love.

\- Oh.

Dab was in love with someone. _Oh._

He should have suspected it. It was doomed to happen, sooner or later. It had already happened before, but this time... Evan could have swore he had felt some hope, deep inside, that Dab would look at him just once in a way that saw more than a friend. He couldn't dream of a real relationship, but he could dream of that.

But again, no miracle was strong enough to grant him that. He would be lucky just to third-wheel on dates in the future, on the side as Dab lived the love story he never would. Only brushing his fingertips on what he most wanted in life. That would be more than enough for him, a simple taste, a shadow. He could still be next to him, ward off the darkest thoughts. Not what he wanted, but close enough for him.

\- That's... it? - Asked Evan. Dab nodded, facing the other way, cheeks burning like Evan had never seen. - Do I know who it is?

-... Yes. You do. - Dab hid his face behind a hand, but the blush was creeping up his face, into his forehead. Soon he would be completely red. Evan had never seen Dab like that over anyone. He could have multiple crushes in a week, and declare himself to every one of them with extreme confidence. Evan had no idea of who had captured him in that way, but whoever it was had surely gotten his best friend hooked.

\- Well, you could have told me sooner. - He said, praying that nothing showed the disappointment he felt in that moment. He rested his hands on the table, ready to get up. And that was when it started.

The room around him seemed to turn, like he had been put in a carrossel without warning. His knees gave in as he fell back into the chair, unable to focus. He could see the ceiling, the lamps. He could see the shelves. He could see Dab, rushing in his direction, blush suddenly gone as he grabbed his hand.

\- Hey, are you ok?

Pain. His stomach was practically hurling, twisting into knots inside of him. And the room kept spinning.

\- Evan? Evan, look at me!

He tried getting up again, but Dab was already lacing an arm over his shoulders, screaming at the librarian that they needed to go to the school nurse. Another pang of pain crossed Evan, but he kept his fingers gripping the back of Dab's jacket. His friend's body next to him was like a boulder, the only solid thing in the world at the moment. 

Dum. Dum. Dum. Why was his heart beating so loud? Dum. Dum. Dum.

Peppermint and sugar. Filling his lungs.

He was so hungry. His bowl of cereal stared at him from the sink, where he had left it that morning. The granola bar on his pocket weighted like a rock. 

He wasn't ok. No thought could stay in his mind for more than a few seconds, flashes of pain mixing with flashes of what he was seeing. One second he was in the library, and then the other he was in the hallway. And then, the nurse's office, sitting in a bench, as Dab layed a hand next to his face. His mouth was moving, but he couldn't hear the words. Dab's lips brushed against his forehead, and he finally heard something.

\- Don't worry. I'll stay with you.


	5. Oh Ms Believer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hey, hey! Any Twenty One Pilots trash out there? Yes? No?  
> Anyway, welcome to a new chapter. Hope you enjoy.

Dab Howlter liked to consider himself a good person, and a good friend. He was loyal, sweet, funny. Being his friend included many benefits. If your significant other broke up with you, he would be in your house with ice cream and every cheesy romantic movie in the world before you could blink. If you had a fight with your parents or friends, he would sit down and listen, and give you advice if you asked for it. If your life was crumbling down, at least you could count on him.

That was what he usually thought. But now, sitting in the nurse's office, he felt like a jerk. 

Facing an anti-smoking poster hanging on the wall, he thought about all the stupid things he had done. First of all, he fell in love with his best friend. His kind, lovely best friend, who obviously only saw him as his childhood budy. Then, he had decided that the best way to deal with his feelings was to pull away and pretend Evan didn't exist. You know, like an idiot. And then, just to top it off, he had to drop a bomb and tell him he was in love with someone, in _such_ a subtle, smooth way. Because no one could crack a case like that, huh?!

He had lost track of time since he had dragged Evan to the office. The boy weighted a lot for someone with the muscular structure of a kindergarten, and Dab was simply glad they hadn't ended up falling down the stairs.

As soon as they had walked in, the nurse had taken Evan to a separate room, leaving Dab alone and forgotten in a corner.

Eventually, she emerged. As soon as Dab saw her, he sprung to his feet.

\- Is he fine? - He asked. - Is he ok?

\- Oh, you don't have to worry. - Said the nurse, flashing a kind smile. - He just needs to eat, so I'm rushing to the cafeteria to get him something. You should probably head to class, I think the bell's about to ring.

\- Going to class? I'm not going anywhere! 

The nurse's lips tightened as she shook her head.

\- You know I can't allow you to skip class to lounge around here.

\- I'm not lounging! I'm waiting for my friend!

\- I already told you, he's fine. You don't need to be here, seriously. - None of them moved, so she ended up sighing. - Listen, I'll tell him to wait for you, so you can talk _after_ your class. Do you understand, young man?

Dab considered. The thing he most wanted in the world was to push past her and see for himself if Evan was ok. But the nurse's posture and voice made it clear she was already being very nice by letting them have that conversation. So he nodded and let himself be pushed outside, heading to class with his eyes fixed on the ground. 

And that's how, for once in his life, Dab Howlter was perfectly still for an entire class. No fidgeting, no shaking his leg, no talking to his classmates, no tapping his pen against the table. Just looking forward, eyes fixed on the board as lines of chalk crossed it.

But to be fair, he wasn't listening to a word. He knew the teacher was saying something about Shakespeare, but he couldn't find in himself the force to care. Dude had been dead for centuries, and Dab had never particularly liked him. Why should he care about what dear old William thought about love and life when there was a very live person just on the other end of the hall, someone who Dab actually cared about, and he was sitting there instead of being with him?

Guilt was eating him from the inside out, like some strange parasite. He could only think of Evan, alone, eating some miserable sandwich that the nurse had gotten him. Probably hating him for being such a bad friend and not realizing he was feeling sick. 

_I let him down._ He thought, feeling his heart drop of his feet. _That boy deserves the world, and what did I give him?_

He had to stop making that to himself, to them. Letting his feelings for Evan ruin their lives. If he hadn't been to lost in his eyes, maybe he could have helped him. Maybe if he wasn't professing his love like a schoolgirl, everything would be alright. 

He knew the class only lasted an hour or so, but when the bell rang, it felt like he had been on that chair for years. As soon as the sound of freedom pierced through the silence of the school, he was out of the door, sprinting to the nurse's office.

Said nurse was standing in the middle of said office, holding a juice box, looking positively confused.

\- Where's my friend? - Asked Dab. But instead of responding, she shrunk her shoulders.

\- He was just here. I told him to wait. - She said. - But then he asked me to get him something to drink, so I went out. I came back and he was gone.

Dab clenched his fists. Typical Evan, making up an excuse to escape conversations he didn't want to have and then running away, fast as lightning. If he was that fast in PE, he could have made it to the track team. 

\- For how long has he been gone? 

\- Just a few minutes. - The nurse gave him a smile. - Don't worry. You can still catch him.

He was already running out of the door, making his way towards the street. A few other students screamed at him as he bumped into them, but Dab had no time to apologize. In a matter of seconds, he was outside.

It had started to snow heavily during the day. Now, it seemed to be slowing down, but the sidewalk was covered in thick, white snow, trapping feet and slowing down the pace of everyone who even tried to make it home walking. 

Evan was many things. Smart. Sweet. Probably other adjective starting with "s", but Dab couldn't really think of anything. But he wasn't atletic. With his weak legs and lungs, he couldn't have made it very far in just a few minutes, as the nurse said. And Dab, although he was not a jock, was in the track team. One of the fastest athletes. And it wasn't a little snow that was gonna slow him down.

He started running before he started thinking. 

There was a shortcut to their homes. They didn't usually take it, unless the weather was bad or they simply wanted to make it home as soon as possible. So that was probably Evan's escape route. 

Dab sprinted past a corner, and there he was, just down the street, his figure contrasting with the pastel-colored houses and the white snow. 

It was only then, as he was growing nearer, that Dab realized he didn't know what to say. How do you tell somebody you love them but will never be good enough for them? How do you tell them the only thing you want in life is to make them happy, but somehow you can't even do that? 

They were getting closer and closer, and all Dab could think of is how he suddenly knew why his parents liked computers and gadgets so much. They were codes and gears and wires. With enough knowledge, you could make them work. If something happened, you opened them and solved the problem. You didn't have to worry about saying the right thing, or doing what they wanted.  

He had always loved the way machines worked so smoothly. He had always felt proud of the way he could make machines and people alike work perfectly.

And in front of him (almost by his side) was the one person he wanted to fix. The one person he wanted to smile at him, the one person he loved. And he was short of ideas. Scratch that, he had no idea. He was completely clueless, and Evan was dangerously closed.

Finally, their paces catched up. They were walking side to side now, and Dab could see him. His cheeks were red, his shoulders were shaking. His eyes looked a little red. He had his earmuffs on, the ones he claimed to hate but always seemed to save him when winter striked. 

He had looked at that face so many times that he had already learned every detail about it. The little freckles on the side of his cheeks, that blended so much with the rest of the skin they passed unnoticed to many people. The front tooth, that was chipped after an unfortunate accident with the sattelite dish. The acne scars and the marks scattered across him, making him seem like a constelation. He looked at that face everyday, and still found himself pleasently surprised each time.

It was hard not to wonder what he was thinking about. Evan was not even looking at him, so asking was out of question. 

Maybe he was thinking about what a jerk his best friend was. Or how pathetic and disgusting his feelings (so expertly confessed) were. Knowing Evan, there was only a very short chance that he would ever share those thought with him. At least he would spare him the direct rejection.

But he could also be thinking about the snow. 

Dab hated winter, the chills and the big jackets. But he loved snow. He loved making snow angels, and building snow men, and watching the snowflakes lazily fall from the sky, sitting at his window and sipping hot cocoa. He also knew it was one of Evan's favorite seasons, because he had an excuse to stay home under fifty blankets and watch TV all day. If they even went outside, it would be to have snowball fights or clean the driveway. For the rest of the time, it was pyjamas and listening to Christmas tunes (Evan said November was no time to listen to Jingle Bells, but Dab would start playing it on July sometimes just to annoy him).

Willow Creek was a quiet, lovely neighbourhood, with equally quiet, lovely winters. He could remember sitting with Evan, talking about winter in other places. They talked about frost-covered mountains, northern lights flashing across the sky, great monuments covered in a layer of white. And sometimes, they would just be quiet. Thinking instead of saying. 

He missed being in tune, knowing what Evan was thinking. In that moment, his face was as grey as the clouds above.

Their fingers brushed accidentally once, and then twice. After a while, it did seem like they were looking for each other, but didn't want to turn and look for the hand they were searching. Instead, they kept like that. A finger brushing against a palm, a thumb against a wrist. It almost looked like a game.

And then, their hands locked. Evan's hand was warm, as always. Dab still remembered those sleepovers where they would fall asleep against each other, and Evan would always feel like a furnace against Dab's body. 

He was feeling like he was on fire, embers and coals burning inside of him. He wanted to open his mouth, spill them over the crosswalk, let them melt away that snow that was making it's way into their shoes, but he couldn't. There was something stopping him, a little voice telling him it would be a waste of time. A heartbreak.

Their houses were there now, just some feet away from then. 

Evan was still not talking, only breathing and walking, clouds appearing from his mouth and nose. And his hand was still between his, warm and soft. And then, as if they had rehearsed it, they stopped, at the same time.

It was his chance to say something. Explain himself, beg for forgiveness. Tell him of every night he had spent awake, looking at his ceiling and reviewing every word, and every touch between them. Tell him how his feelings sometimes hit him like waves, sometimes it was more like he was floating around the butterflies. How he wished things were simpler, and he was smarter and loving was easier. 

There were promises he could make, and try his best to keep. Promise to be better, to be something he deserved. Promise to love, even if he wasn't going to be loved back, because he knew no matter how many times his heart got broken, it would still beat in the same way it always did, in tune with Evan's.

He could hug him. He could kiss him. He could keep holding his hand and run to those northern lights and faraway places that populated their shared dreams.

But he could only blurt out three words.

\- I love you.

They fell, almost like an accident. They were mumbled and low, but he was sure Evan had listened. Almost sure.

He raised a hand to his earmuffs, taking them off. Under them, earphones, and a wire making it's way from Evan's ears to the inside of his shirt, later connecting to his cellphone. When Evan took one of them off, Dab could hear the chords of some music he didn't recognize. He blinked, innocent. Blissfully ignorant of what Dab had just said.

\- I'm sorry, did you say something?

Damn it.

\- Run. - He said.

\- What?

With Evan's hand in his own, he started sprinting the few feet that separated them from their houses. Evan let out a surprised squeal, but Dab could hear a small laugh muffled under. The cold air was burning his lungs, but at least he could forget what he had said.

They only stopped in front of home. Still holding hands, they faced each other in the middle of the road. And the world stopped.

\- Sorry for being a dumbass. - Blurted Dab. - Really, I was stupid, and an idiot, and you probably hate me right now, so...

\- I could never hate you. - There was a smile, a shy one, appearing on Evan's face. - I get it, you've been confused with your feelings about this mystery lover of yours. You needed space. But next time, just warn me. I thought I had done something wrong.

\- Like you could ever drive me away. - He managed to laugh this time. - We're stuck together, and you're not getting rid of me.

\- Shame. And I had already posted an add on Craiglist for a new best friend. - Evan scoffed. - But seriously, promise.

\- I promise. - Dab tightened his grip on Evan's hand. - I was selfish, I didn't think about what you were going through. Trust me, if I could go back in time, I would slap myself. I promise I'll start answering your texts as soon as I get them, and that I won't try to push you away, and I specially promise I won't make you feel like you have to walk alone in the snow, because seriously, you look emo doing that. 

Evan hit him in the arm, just to give him a hug afterwards. It was nice having him close again.

They parted ways, each one to his respective house. Dab's parents were still at work, and his dad would probably stay late, so he had the house for himself for at least half an hour. So he gladly used that time to grab his favorite pillow and silently scream with his mouth pressed against it. 

Great going, really. He didn't know if he should curse or thank God for those earphones, because otherwise he could have ended up spilling the beans. And that would be such a nice, wonderful conversation.

_\- Hey, Evan, remember how we've been friends since diapers? Well, here's thousands of weird feelings I have for you, which you don't want. I can't explain them and they will be a burden for the two of us for as long as we're alive. How were classes today, by the way?_

Not even screaming against the pillow was helping. It was serious.

Dab ended up just falling on the bed, eyes closed so shut he was sure they would get glues together. He closed his eyes, and all he could see were the bits of snow that had gotten stuck in Evan's hair.

He was in too deep. And it was bad.


	6. Nine in the Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, time to drop the drama. Our favorite sims are back in Evan's POV.  
> Inspired by Panic! At the Disco's song Nine in the Afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, regarding the new sims video...  
> You know what? I don't care, to me Dab will always gave curly hair. I made up my mind about that. In this house we only accept curly-haired Dab Howlter.  
> But art-kid Dab and science-loving Evan? Sign me the fuck up.

\- So... what have you been up to?

The question caught him off-guard, fork half-way towards his mouth. It had been months since his father had asked him that question. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time they had a normal father-son conversation, something other than quick chats about things that had to be done around the house. 

They were sitting alone on the table, eating dinner. His mother was... somewhere. He was not really sure at this point. And they had spent around half an hour just eating in silence, as always.

It had been a very silent few days at the Pancakes'. Unusually silent days. His parents weren't fighting or yelling, not even closing doors in each other's faces. They mostly just tossed passive-agressive comments at each other or generally avoided being at the same place at the same time. They thought Evan didn't notice, but he saw a few blankets and pillows in his dad's office, meaning he had been probably sleeping there for a few nights now.

Too much silence was never a good thing at that house. It usually meant that his parents were particularly mad at each other, and soon a big fight would be taking over. And silence usually meant his parents were too tired and angry to be nice, to ask him what he had been up to.

He loved them, really. But sometimes it was like they forgot they had a son. Although they had never hit him or mistreated him, they simply weren't cut off to be parents. Even their house wasn't children-family. Evan had never seen any of his drawings hanging on the walls, or his toys scattered around. The house looked like no one lived there most of the days,  like it was a photograph on those real estate cathalogs. Big. Pretty. Empty.

\- I'm good. Thanks. - A few minutes of awkward silence followed, as both of them kept their eyes on their plates.

\- You've been spending a lot of time in your room. - Commented his father, playing with his food. Evan's eyebrows knitted together.

\- I always spent a lot of time in my bedroom, dad. - He didn't feel like telling his father he was making a playlist for his crush. He also didn't feel like telling him said crush was their front door neighbour. Because if one thing could make that dinner even more awkward, that was it.

\- You've also been spending a lot of time with that Howlter boy.

His dad always referred to Dab as "that Howlter boy". Evan was 60% sure he never remembered his name. Which was weird, considering Dab was an important part of his son's life and, honestly, who forgets a name like that?  What parents choose their first born's name by mashing their own names together?

\- Why, is there anything wrong with that?

He knew his parents relationship with the Howlters was bittersweet. Sure, they were friends. They went bowling together, and invited each other over for parties. But Mr. Howlter had once famously started a fire in their house by showing off one of his gadgets. And there was the whole thing about him having an almost-affair with his mother. Also, they kind of hid everytime she knocked on the door, which was a little rude. 

Still, they had never expressed any distaste about his friendship with Dab. They really couldn't complain, since Evan had _one_ friend.

\- No, no. - More chewing. More awkward glances. - Tell me, are you and your friend... Hum... - His father made a few vague gestures. - You know... Together?

Allow me to decompose Evan's reaction into different states.

First state, confusion. Why was his father so flusthered? What was he even saying? Of course he and Dab were together, they were always together, like some freaky siamese twins with different parents, born months apart. His father had to know that.

And then, realization. He was asking if they were dating. Holding hands, kissing. Frolicking in the meadows. And although Evan was ok with all of those things, there was simply something wrong about his dad thinking he was, indeed, frolicking in the meadows with his best friend. Something that made him blush, cheeks getting a dark crimson as he coughed, almost choking on his food.

Finally, horror.

His dad thought they were dating. Did anybody else think that? Was it a gossiping topic between his mother and Mrs. Howlter? Was anybody at school spreading rumors? 

Did Dab know they were saying those things? Because then, Dab would put two and two together and realize that Evan was hopelessly in love with him. And that was a no-no. If that happened, Evan was ready to offer himself as text subject to one of Mr. Howlter's experiences, just in the hopes of being teleported into a different reality.

\- Dad! - He finally screamed. - What the hell?!

\- Sorry, sorry, it's just that... You seem to really like him.

\- Because he's my best friend. We've known each other since diapers. We like each other in a very platonic way, ok? So whatever you're thinking we are doing, you are wrong!

Silence fell over the table again, and Evan realized he wasn't very hungry anymore. He put his plate on the sink and marched towards the living room.

\- Dab's coming over tonight, by the way. - He added, pulling his phone out of his pocket. - Please, don't say anything.

\- Sure, kid.

His father went upstairs, leaving him alone to look out the window. The Howlter household was full of light, and noise. Music blaring and people laughing. Evan had eaten dinner at the Howlter's many times, and each dinner in that house was special in it's own way. Sometimes, Mr. Howlter would show off his newest investion. Mrs. Howlter would try to play the guitar, leaving them deaf for a few minutes. Dab would show him his newest work of art. Once, Mrs. Howlter was abducted.

It was a weird day.

With a sigh, Evan made his way back into the kitchen and put some popcorn in the microwave. That night was movie night, and it was Evan's time to pick what they were watching. In a few minutes, Dab would be there, so he had to have everything ready.

Movie night started... well, he wasn't sure when it had started. He remembers being a kid not doing it, and suddenly it was a part of his routine. 

They had watched hundreads of movies together. Sometimes at his house, sometimes at Dab's. Everything from cute bubbly children movies where characters broke into song to horror thrillers full of gore. Evan always had a soft spot for rom-coms, even though he would never admit it, since he had a reputation of rational intelectual to uphold. Dab was always trying to make him watch indie movies full of poetic lines. 

His favorite genre was sci-fi. Spaceships and guns, stars and distant planets. Adventurous heroes. 

So, no surprise he had picked Star Wars. 

The doorbell rang, and Evan rushed to open the door. Dab was standing on the other side, holding a bag of marshmallows that was pretty much half his size and what seemed like thousands of pillows and blankets. Evan stepped aside to let him in.

\- Where are your parents?

\- Mom's out. Dad's upstairs. Now come, we have three movies to watch. - He said, pulling Dab into the living room by his wrist. - And before you ask, no, it's not the prequels.

\- What a shame. Meesa disappointed.

\- You say meesa again and I swear to God...

He went back to the kitchen to get their popcorn (salty for Evan, diabetes-inducing for Dab) and sat down on the couch. His friend had already set the pillows and blankets on the couch. His parents had designed the house to look modern and avant-garde. Not comfortable. Evan had always hated that stone-stiff couch, with it's skinny pillows and rough edges. 

Turning the lights off and setting down, Evan let a smile crawl over his face. Dab's head was resting against his knees, his legs hanging out of he couch. Evan almost felt comfortable enough to play with his hair, wrap his fingers around those wild curls and feel the silky waves under his hands. 

It was nice being at home, for once. He usually felt like a stranger, an unwanted guest. But now, he truly felt like that was his house, and that was his street. Outside was the street where he and Dab walked almost everyday, and it was his street. And the boy he loved lived across from him, and that was his neighbour. 

He was still impressed with Dab's ability to light up a room, even after all that time. He could even make the Pancakes home feel like a good place to be, making it seem like a place where actual people actually lived, not a galery, like Evan sometimes felt it was. His bright clothes, the glitter stuck on his hands (Dab always had glitter stuck on his hands) and his crazy hair bringed a sense of joy into every place he went to. He made Evan feel young, a child again. Trying out fun little experiments on his tiny lab and reading books where he didn't have to think about metaphors and complications, like he had now. Fun stories he would share with Dab.

\- So, we'll be here for like 6 hours to watch all the movies. - Said Evan. - Maybe more. It's 9 pm, so we'll be done by... 3 am. 

\- Give me coffee and Red Bull and I might just power through it. - Laughed Dab. - Besides, you're the one who always falls asleep first at every movie night and sleepover. So maybe I should be the one giving you coffee.

\- The last time you gave me coffee, you handed me the mug where you clean your paintbrushes.

\- In my defense, it was an accident. It really looked like coffee. - Evan rolled his eyes. - I really have to get a mug just for paintbrushes.

\- Oh, you don't say? I almost died!

\- You drank paint. I've been doing that since I was 6. And mind you, I accidentally drink from that mug almost everyday. I'm still standing.

\- Which means your body is already used to the toxins and chemicals. My mother didn't even let me eat gluten, do you think I'm used to drinking paint?

\- It's called trying new things.

\- Start the movie or you'll be trying my foot in your butt.

They stared at each other for a second and started laughing. Empty threats and jokes. Dab always making things happen, whether he wanted it or not. That was the foundation of their friendship. 

He cuddled closer to Dab, feeling the places where their skin touched like they were on fire, and smiled as the screen darkneed and the letters started appearing, telling the story of a galaxy in need of a hero. It truly felt perfect, like they were in their own very little movie theatre. 

However, he couldn't focus on the movie.

No matter how much he loved Star Wars, he still felt too excited to watch it. Being there next to the boy he loved made his head bubble with thoughts, a mix of full sentences and simple glimpses of emotions. Everything made him feel like he was on top of the world, from the light pouring from the lamps outside to Dab's head on his lap. It's just them watching a movie, but it feels different. It feels special.

Dab turns his face to look at Evan, and he understand he wasn't paying much attention too. His eyes are sparkling, wide, and his pupils are gigantic, given the lack of light. Evan's heart tightened in his chest.

They didn't say anything, just looked at each other. Evan still felt somehow electric, like he had thousands of volts running through his veins. On the screen, Luke was holding his lightsaber for the first time. That was Evan's favorite part, but he still couldn't tear his eyes away from the other boy's face. He felt like catching every little detail, as if someone was about to rip Dab from him.

Because maybe someone was. He still remembered the look on Dab's face on the library a few days before, when he had told him he was in love with someone. Someone he knew. That look that showed he was completely lost, being pulled to someone Evan knew he could not compete with. He didn't know any names, but he could imagine who that person was. Someone like that, beautiful and full of life. Capable of looking at a white canvas and imagining entire worlds and stories to paint, someone who drawn the attention of everyone in the room. 

He could see them. Kinda. Dab, happier than ever. With an anonymous hand between his, and talking to him, counting the endless good things about his new boyfriend or girlfriend. 

But he didn't mind. For once, he was able to see the close future as being very far away. He could focus on the now, on that clock telling him it was 9 pm and on that boy looking at him with fondness.

He felt happy. Truly, really happy. There was nothing but the movie, and him, and Dab and his starstruck eyes. So he smiled and let his head fall, his eyes close. 

When he woke up again, The Empire Strikes Back was on the TV screen, the clock told him it was almost midnight and the front door was being opened. Thoughts of robbers flashed through his mind, but eventually the light on the lobby lighted up and he saw his mother's red hair.

\- Oh, Dab's here. - She said. - Sorry to wake you up, boys. I'll be heading upstairs.

\- What's that under your arm? - Asked Evan, rubbing his eyes. His mother had a stack of papers cuddled against her body, very official looking.

\- Nothing. Good night, Evan.

Evan's eyebrows knitted together. What was she up to?

Dab grumbled and lifted up his head, hair a mess and eyes barely opening. 

\- What happened?

\- Just my mom. - The light was off again, but the feeling was gone. Dab was standing up straight now, sitting next to him instead of laying down, and Evan felt like he had been rudely kicked out of a little paradise. He gave the clock an angry look, wishing it would turn back to 9 o'clock and to being alone. Now he was too much aware that his parents were upstairs, probably trying to find something to fight about. He was a stranger at home again, a boy who didn't quite belong to beautiful, happy Willow Creek. He wasn't special anymore.

\- Are you ok?

\- Yeah, sure. - Said Evan, yawning. - Just sleepy. Do you wanna spend the night?

He didn't want to be alone now. His room was too big anyway, too much room for just one person. He used to hate it when he was younger, those dark walls contrasting with the tiny bed and infant clothes. He spent a lot of time in his parents' bed growing up.

Having Dab over was fun, because he filled up the space everywhere he went. And since their parents were so used to them crashing at each other's beds every now and then, they didn't even have to warn them. 

\- God, I just want to sleep. - Dab stretched and got up. - I think I crushed your leg when I snoozed off. Sorry about that.

\- No worries.

They made their way upstairs, careful not to wake anybody off. But it wasn't like they needed to, since he could hear his parents talking in the office. The door was closed and their voices were muffled, but Evan could tell they were somewhere between agitated and angry. Still, he couldn't quite understand the words being said between them. 

Once inside his room, he handed Dab a pair of pajamas and turned around to let him change in peace.

\- You've seen me undressed before. Why so shy all of a sudden?

\- No reason. - He mumbled, thankful Dab couldn't see him blush. It would be hard to explain to him why some things were normal with friend-Dab, but not with crush-Dab. Especially since he now knew he was in love with someone else, a person who he knew. And things were great between them now, normal and calm as ever. Would he dare to ruin them by tipping too close to the abysm?

His bed was a single, so it wasn't exactly meant for two teenage boys. But as always, they made up space, their backs touching as they layed on their sides. Evan was facing his balcony, catching a glimpse of the Howlter's owlslide. Next to him, Dab yawned once again.

\- Tell me a bed time story. - He said, lazily.

\- Are you serious right now? - Asked Evan, chocking back laughter. - You're almost in college and you're asking me to tell you a bed time story?

\- You know I love stories. - Dab turned, putting his arms around him and his shin in the space between Evan's neck and shoulder. He bit his lip, realizing that felt an awful lot like cuddling, and an uneducated observer might say he was a little spoon at that moment. Which would be preposterous. 

\- Ok, fine. Once upon a time there was a boy who had the mindset of a three year old. He almost drowned once trying to find frogs in the park's lake, he played with dangerous gadgets that were capable of setting someone on fire and he had the weirdest fashion sense ever. I'm talking wearing bunny slippers outside, people. - Dab scoffed behind him. - His salvation was this kind, smart, charming prince...

\- Oh, please, prince of what? Math homework?

\- Do not interrupt the narrator. Anyway, this handsome prince was constantly saving him from everything, even though he was risking his life most of the times. He even put his life on the line when the boy, foolish as he was, handed his savior a cup of poison...

\- Will you let go of the paintbrush water already? It's been months.

\- Dab, you're ruining the climax. Because even though the boy always acted like a child who ate too much candy, the prince still liked him very much. Yes, even when he handed him poison.

Dab chuckled, his warm breath burning the back of Evan's neck. He had a delightful laugh, a sound clear that bringed Evan right back into childhood.

\- I like you too, oh prince of math homework.

They fell silent slightly after, and eventually Dab's breathing turned soft, caught up in a dream. Evan couldn't hear his parents anymore, either. The most rigid, mausoleum-like silence was over the Pancakes residence.

At the moment, he had Dab. He was fine. But he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. Because silence at the Pancakes' meant something was going on, nerves were firing up under skin and bad things were on it's way.  A storm was brewing.

And the first clouds were just above them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember not to miss the next chapter! It will sure take you... somewhere.


	7. Somewhere in Neverland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen in this new chapter inspired by All Time Low's song Somewhere in Neverland.  
> And the readers get a thing they have wanted for 7 chapters now... with a twist.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

The line of text stared at him, awaiting an answer, but he had none to give it. Where did he see himself in 10 years? Well, painting, of course. Or maybe taking photographs. Taking art classes at the nearest university. Maybe still living with his parents, or maybe getting a little house of his own, not very far away.

But wherever he was in 10 years, he wanted Evan to be next to him.

The problem was that those things barely filled the page. And when he looked around, he saw some of his classmates writing page after page of future dreams and expectations. Faraway universities. Studying abroad. Brilliant careers. Getting married and having children. Visiting far-away countries and meeting new, exciting people. Gigantic houses in the best parts of town, a place where the batallion of children some of them were imagining could roam free. The sky was the limit.

All around him, everybody had everything all-figured out. And all he knew was he wanted his family and his best friend. Was that too much to ask?

\- Alright, class! – The teacher’s voice rang from the front of the room. – You have 5 minutes to finish before turning in your essays!

Dab’s hands curled up in fists. He quickly wrote a few lines of text about how he wanted to stay in contact with his loved ones and pursue a career in the arts, and when the bell rang, he got up and handed it to the teacher, who shook his head.

\- May I speak to you after class, Mr. Howlter?

\- Uh... sure. - That wasn't good.

Slowly, the classroom emptied, and Dab was left alone with his teacher.

\- Dab, I’ve known you forever. And you’re a nice kid. But... – The dreaded word. But. – Have you sent an aplication to any universities recently?

\- Just one. – Answered Dab. – The nearest by.

\- Really? Because I’ve heard you’re a really talented artist. You could go to a really good school...

\- I’m ok right staying in Willow Creek.  – He cut off. – It’s nice in here, and I know everybody.

His teacher looked like he was about to say something else, but then closed his mouth and sighed.

\- You can go now. Take care.

Evan was waiting for him on the other side of the door, already checking his clock, eternally worried about being punctual, like the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. When he saw him, his eyes widened.

\- Is Dab Howlter the last student to leave the classroom, instead of the first one sprinting out?

\- Oh, bite it, Pancakes.

\- Somebody pinch me! I think I’m dreaming!

Dab managed to crack a smile, but his teacher’s disappointed tone was still in his mind. Words like future, and planning, and college, and art and _taxes_. Why was he thinking about taxes, anyway? His parents were the ones who had to care about that.

He looked around at the classmates he had known for all his life. He had been with some of those people since kindergarten. Everybody waved at him, looked at him with respect. He was Dab Howlter, the coolest but also kindest kid in school. Outside, he knew all the ways to get to his favorite places, he knew the quickest way to get to the art supplies store or to the pizzeria or to The Blue Velvet. He knew all the shortcuts to get to home, to his parents’ jokes and to their hugs.

Willow Creek was his home, after all. The bowling alley, the park, the museum, the people who waved at him as he passed, always recognizing him.

And Evan, of course. Evan who lived across the street and was the best thing to ever happen to Dab Howlter. Evan, who was now talking, not realizing Dab was lost in thought.

\- Anyway, my parents say this dinner is “really important” and they “have very important news” to give me. – He said, rolling his eyes. Dab was sure Evan's eyes would jump out of his skull if he continued rolling so constantly.

\- Huh. – Said Dab. – What do you think that’s all about?

\- Maybe someone died. I don’t know. – Evan shrunk his shoulders. – But what’s up with you. You haven’t said anything in a while.

They were already out of school, and heading towards home. There were some students walking nearby, but the street was pretty quiet. That was the thing about Willow Creek: if his dad wasn’t trying a new invention, then it was quiet. Calm. Boring.

Dab had never really thought about how those people in Willow Creek were different than him. Wherever he went there, he was a splash of bright colors and hand covered in paint. People liked him, sure, but he still felt odd sometimes, like he had been somehow misplaced in the world. He wondered sometimes how his parents, so odd like him, could fit in so well.

\- Have you ever thought about living Willow Creek? – He asked.

\- I don’t know. – Answered Evan. For the first time, he was the calm one when discussing plans for the future. Maybe because his plans actually had details. So many details in fact that Dab wondered if he didn't have various foulders with each day of the next few years just planned to what he would eat to where he would go. – I sent a few letters to colleges in Oasis Springs and Newcrest, but I think I’m staying. The biochemistry courses here are pretty good.

\- Yeah, but don’t you want better?

\- Of course I do. That’s why I’m moving out of my parents’ house as soon as I’m 18. – He answered. – We can get a house next to uni. A quiet place, where you can do your art and I can study. We’ve been planning this since we were children.

\- I’ve heard their art classes at the local uni are the worst. The teachers don’t have the minimal idea of what they’re talking about.

Evan stopped in his tracks, sending him a worried look.

\- Dab...

\- Look at the time! – He said, shaking away the thoughts that had been pestering him through the entire walk. – Don’t you have some fancy dinner where your parents are gonna tell you somebody died?

\- Yeah, you’re right... We should go.

Evan looked at him weirdly for the entire trip to their street, while Dab tried to subtly convince him he was fine, by doing normal Dab things. He made the most disgusting jokes he could think of, reminded him of all the stupid things he had ever done. But Evan still looked at him like he had suddenly grown a pair of antlers.

When they reached their homes, they parted ways and Dab watched as Evan got into his house. Dab’s parents were still at work, but his mother would be there soon.

He sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. Switched at Birth was on, and he usually loved watching it. All the drama, all the art. But right now, drama and art were the last things he wanted to think about. He changed the channel, accidentally ending up on some kind of cheesy rom-com. One of the actors played a shy nerd with little to no confidence, and although he looked nothing like Evan, Dab still found himself reminded of him.

No, he didn’t want to think of Evan either. Because at the moment, he was the best thing about Willow Creek. The one thing keeping him there.

He couldn't think about anything at the moment. 

With a sigh, Dab got up and grabbed his art supplies, making his way towards the lounge. The small table where he had made his first drawings as a child was still there, with an easel right next to it. He had started an unfinish painting a few weeks before, and not it was time to get it done.

With an apron over his clothes (his mother insisted he used it to avoid getting paint all over himself) and armed with oil paint, he was ready. The painting was a present he was making for his parents’ wedding anniversary, a replication of a photograph from their engagement. He had tastefully decided to add some pants to his father’s figure.

He had asked his mother why she had married the man who took her on a date to a fancy restaurant in his underwear. Her answer? The heart wants what the heart wants.

 _What does your heart want, Dab?_ He thought. He went over his answers again, but they were still the same. His family. His art. Evan. His Evan.

Sure, he had dreams of travelling the world someday. But those things were meaningless if Evan wasn’t by his side to spit some fact about what they were seeing, or to drag him into museums that nobody else found interesting but simply seemed the best thing ever to his geeky best friend.

The painting was almost done now. Dab had a portfolio where he kept all his finished work, which Evan had divided by year, medium and style, because he was Evan, and seeing a portrait mixed with a surrealistic painting was aneurysm-inducing for him.

Putting down his pencil, Dab reached for the portfolio where he kept the portraits. And found it... suspiciously lighter than the last time he had picked it up.

His eyebrows knitted together as he kneeled down and opened it. As he suspected, many of his painting were missing. He reached for the watercolor portfolio, and found the same thing.

Dab felt a knot forming on his stomach as he quickly went through every portfolio in front of him. Every year, from 10 to 17. Every medium, from acrylic to charcoal. Every style, from expressionism to still life. They were still full of drawings, but many were missing.

Weirdly, the paintings missing were his best ones. The ones he was the most proud of, like the landscape he had painted from a balcony at the museum, showing the entire Willow Creek during spring, cherry blossoms and flower petals flying everywhere. Or the painting of a pirate ship he had completed over the summer, deep blue waves and ivory white foam climbing the sides of the ship and a flag as dark as a shadow hanging from the highest mast. Even the dumb little cubist painting he had done during his Picasso phase when he was 15, which turned out way better than he expected. And even more, Dab wasn't even sure how many.

But worst, his favorite painting was missing.

His favorite painting was the one he had shared with no one. He had painted it in his room, not in the lounge, and quickly hid it in the portfolio once it was dry. It was a portrait of Evan.

Sure, he had painted Evan before. And Evan knew it. But this painting, which had started a simple portrait of his friend reading a book, quickly turned into something... different. Because mid-way, Dab had started to add tiny butterflies in multiple colors. Mostly blue, but also orange, green and faded pink. Flying around, but mostly on the tips of his fingers and over his shoulders. 

The final result made Dab very proud, but when he finished he realized it looked too personal to show everybody else.  It also seemed like a weirdly romantic portrait, like he was painting a lover or something.

And now that weirdly romantic butterfly-covered painting he had hid for months was out in the world, God knows where.

It was officially time to panic.

Tabitha and Dil Howlter arrived home some time later, with a stack of letters in their hands, to see their son on a rampage, running up and down and screaming like a mad-man.

\- Dil, I don’t know what’s happening. – Said Tabitha, sending her husband a look. – But I’m sure this can be traced back to one of your mad scientist gadgets.

\- Don’t blame the momentum conserver. It’s just an innocent physics defying globe.

\- Dab, dear, what’s wrong? – Asked Tabitha, sitting her son down on the couch. 

\- My paintings are missing! – He answered. – I mean, not all of them, but it’s obvious somebody stole them! We had a burglar! An art burglar! Why are you two so calm?!

His parents traded a knowing look and smiled.

\- Son, we have news. – His father fished a letter from the many in his hands and handed it to Dab, who looked at it for a moment without knowing what to do. – C’mon, aren’t you gonna ask what that is?

\- An envelope? – Dab didn’t feel like reading bills right now, but then a name caught his attention. On the envelope was printed “San Myshuno Art Academy”.  Right under it, “Mr. Dab Howlter, Potters Splay, Courtyard Lane”. – What’s this about?

His father took a seat on his left side, while his mother sat on the other side.

\- We haven’t opened it yet. – Guaranteed his mother. – We wanted you to discover first.

Dab didn’t ask what they were expecting to discover. He opened the envelope and a letter fell on his lap. It was very offical looking, with a logo on the top.

\- Dear Mr. Howlter. – He started. – We are happy to inform you that you have been accepted at the San Myshuno Art Academy... Mom, dad, what’s this? I didn’t send anything to this school.

\- Yes, but we did. – His mother wrapped her arms around him, with a smile that took over her entire face. – Read more, read more.

He wasn’t sure of what was happening at the moment. He knew his parents were happy, and he knew one of the most prestigious art schools in the world had just sent him a letter accepting him, even though he hadn’t even thought about sending his application there. So he simply continued reading.

\- We are happy to inform you that you have been accepted at the San Myshuno Art Academy with a full scholarship. The school year will start in September. If you are interested in accepting our offer, please contact the school’s admission offices. A tour of the campus will take place in two weeks. – There was more to the letter. Information about his scholarship, about the school, about who he could contact.

He looked up from the letter to his parents, both with the biggest smiles he had ever seen. His father ruffled his hair, his mother planted a kiss on his cheek.

\- We knew you could do it! – His father put an arm over his shoulders, his eyes wrinkling from his smile.

\- So... you sent my paintings to this school? Why?

The smiles slowly faded as his parents realized he wasn’t nearly as happy as them. Mostly because he was still connecting the dots. The missing paintings. The letter.

His parents had sent the school his curriculum. And they wanted him. He had proof.

\- Listen, honey, we know you wanted to stay here in Willow Creek. – His mother took his hands in hers. – But you’re young and talented. You have your whole life ahead of you, and this school is so prestigious.

\- We’re sorry we acted behind your back, but we knew you wouldn’t let us do this. And we had to try. – His father bit his lip. – Listen, if you don’t want to go...

Did he want to go? Dab wasn’t sure. He had never been to San Myshuno, but he had heard it was full of different people and animation. And their art school was especially famous. Still, Dab had never thought they would accept him, even if he sent his portfolio.

A full scholarship. That was how much they had liked his work.

\- I-I’m not sure. – He had visited the Willow Creek university art’s department once. It was miserable, from miserable classrooms to miserable looking teachers and students, wondering where that career would take them. – I mean... I would move away from you guys... and...

_And Evan._

\- You can visit whenever you want. – His mother gave his hands a small squeeze. – And whatever you do, you have our full support. Now and forever.

His head was filled with things, and he didn’t want anyone of those there. His teachers asking him what he wanted. His parents talking about support. The own letter seemed to talk, singing to him like a mermaid luring him into an unknown sea. Future and school, and school and future, and _taxes_. 10 years... 10 years later, where would he be? A paintbrush sliding lazily across a canvas, leaving a mark of paint behind. Willow Creek during spring, green lawns and colorful flowers. The skyscrapers that he saw in every picture of San Myshuno.

And in that storm of thoughts, Evan. His soft voice talking about sharing a house, and his dark eyes, and the fact that he lived there, across the street, and moving away would mean leaving him behind. And there would be no more movie nights, no more visits to the park or to the museum, no more Howlter-Pancakes bowling matches. He wouldn't see him whenever he wanted. He'd have to call to hear his voice.

\- I need time to think.

For an hour, he was gladly left alone. He had dinner with his parents, and they talked about what he has done that day (he showed them the portrait, mom made a joke about how she prefered dad with no pants on, Dab was traumatised), they talked about work. Dab ate his fish tacos and went back to his room, admission letter in hand.

He read it once. Then he read it again. And again, and again, and again, until he knew every word by heart. Then he opened his laptop and looked for San Myshuno in every map he could find, keeping his attention in the Arts Quarter.

It was a beautiful place. It almost had Dab Howlter written all over it. If only...

He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock on his window. Dab jumped, startled, until he saw who was knocking.

\- What are you doing here? – He asked, opening the window. – Usually I’m the one knocking on you window in the middle of the night.

\- Do you have your car keys? – Asked Evan.

\- Why?

\- I need to blow off steam.

Dab’s parents were in the living room talking, and they had left him alone until that moment. So why not?

He grabbed his keys, turned off the light and jumped out of the window, landing next to Evan. Susan was parked in front of the house, and although he feared his parents would show up any second and forbid him from going out, a minute later they were on the road, the headlights piercing through the darkness like lighthouses in the night. Next to him, Evan fidget nervously.

\- Will you tell me what this is about now? – Dab glanced towards Evan, who was sinking in his hoodie.

There was a second of silence, and then he spoke, voice soft and scared.

\- They’re divorcing. That was what the whole dinner was about.

They. Dab took a moment to realize he was talking about his parents.

\- Oh.

Everybody wondered why the Pancakes were still together, and most people agreed Evan was the one thing they had in common. So they shouldn’t have been surprised this was coming. With Evan growing up and going to college, they would be left alone in that house. Dab was sure that later, when he talked about it to his parents, they would say it was better that way. They would be happier apart than trapped in that house together.

\- I don’t know what to do. – Sighed Evan. – I mean, I know they don’t love each other anymore. They’re always fighting. But still... I know it sounds dumb and irrational, but I always hoped some kind of higher power would interfere and they would at least learn to live together. And now I'm scared that I'll end up as them, miserable and angry with the world.

\- Who are you staying with? Your mother or your father?

\- They say they’ll only go through with it when I go to college. – He said. – So I still have a few months of absolute misery... God, I can’t wait for us to move out.

Dab suddenly remembered the talk they had had when leaving school. A tiny house next to uni, and more years together.

But then what? Was Dab willing to spend the rest of his life without telling Evan how he felt? Would he even be able to stay in Willow Creek now that he knew he was good enough to catch the attention of a highly prestiged art school?

There had to be a solution. A way to have both Evan and the adventures he dreamed off.

They were driving next to the river now, the dark water sending reflexes of light back to them. A fish jumped from the depths and sent waves through the vast waters. Calm and predictable. And then, something messes it up. Dab wasn't sure if he was thinking about the river or his life.

Sitting in silence, they watched the houses around them, catching glimpses of people talking and moving. The same people, the same routines. The world around them was turning and people were still living their lifes. But they were trapped between choices they didn't want to make and thing they didn't want to deal with. How would they escape, how could they possibly leave?

\- Let's run away. - Said Dab, without thinking. Said like that, it almost made sense.

\- You can't be serious. You sound crazy! - Evan straightened his back, startled. - Where would we even go? With what money? We need to eat, you know?

\- We could find a way. We always find a way, don't we? - He looked away from the road, to look at Evan, wide-eyed and with his mouth hanging a little. - What do you say?

He closed and opened his mouth for a little, like a surprised fish. Dab was actually scared Evan would start screaming at him to turn the car around. But then...

\- Why not? 

A laugh climbed from the back of Dab's throat as he accelerated, leaving the houses behind. Poor Susan gave a few hickups before adjusting to the velocity. 

That was the answer. Of course, they just had to turn their backs and run! Dab couldn't think about food or shelter, he could only think of freedom, something inside his chest pushing him forward, telling him that what he was looking for was just behind that curve on the road or the skyline in front of his eyes. And for once, Evan seemed to feel like that too. He was smiling like crazy, making wrinkles where Dab had never seen them.

How many chances would he have to see that smile if he left? He could see it on Skype or on photographs, but it wouldn't be the same. In that car, he could reach for him. Hold his hand, play with his fingers, lean in closer to him and feel the fabric of his clothes and the smell of his skin. 

He made him happy just by being there. And if Evan was willing to go with him, Dab was willing to go to the moon if needed.

\- I love this song! - Laughed Dab, as Alphaville's Forever Young started to play on the radio. The wind coming from the half-open window swept his hair across his face. 

\- So, we need to plan. - Said Evan, his logic nature showing through his ecstatic mood. - I currently have five simoleons and a cough drop on my wallet.

\- It's alright, we'll crash at my grandparents. They won't mind.

\- Won't they tell your parents?

Dab thought for a while. His grandparents lived in London, and although they tried to be responsible adults, they were also gigantic goofballs. If he told them he and Evan were just enjoying a field trip, they would probably believe it.

\- Don't worry about it.

\- I can't simply not worry about it. That's my job here: worry.

\- Not tonight, Pancakes. Tonight we are gonna drive until we fall asleep.

\- No, don't do that. We'll crash if you fall asleep on the wheel.

\- What did I say about worrying?

\- Sorry. - Evan rested his head against the window. - I can't stop it, it's part of me. I _have_ to worry. About you, about driving, about my parents back at home... Am I a bad person if I leave them right now?

Dab bit his lips. He was asking himself a very similar question.

\- Well... - He started, knowing he was walking on thin ice. - Sometimes, people just need to leave in order to grow. That doesn't mean they are different or worse. Leaving is a need for some people. 

Evan chuckled lightly, like he had just told a joke.

\- That was wise. - He said. - Too wise. Who are you and what have you done with Dab Howlter?

\- Oh, so you're the only one who's allowed to read books now? - Asked Dab. - I'll have you know I was always very wise, from a very young age. My parents dropped me on a fountain of wisdom when I was born.

\- I'm sure your parents dropped you. On your head. On the floor. - Evan's lips twisted for a second. - Hey, but really. Where is all this wisdom coming from? Are you finally growing up or is this just a weird dream?

\- I'll never grow up. Find me in 20 years hanging out in the monkey bars and sitting in my bear chair.

The song slowly faded, and the radio presenter starting spitting out some facts about traffic and weather. They were in the middle of the highway now, completely alone.

\- You were talking about leaving Willow Creek earlier today.

Dab's mouth dried. He didn't like where this was heading. 

\- I was just... thinking. - Silence fell, and since Evan had his face turned and Dab had to keep his eyes on the road, he was finding it hard to read his friend's body language. Was he mad? Was he making that expression he always made when he was suspicious, puckered lips and wrinkled nose? - Why all the questions?

\- There's something you're not telling me. - Said Evan. - First, you say you're in love with someone. Then you drop the subject and never pick it up again. Now you come up with plans to leave. You've never kept secrets from me before.

What could he do? He didn't feel like coming clean right now, in the middle of the road. So he swerved to the side, stopped the car and turned to face Evan. The street lamps were far gone, and the little light the moon gave them barely lit the inside of the car. All he could see was Evan's silhouette. 

 _This is it._ He thought. _Tell him how you feel._

In the darkness, he leaned in closer and tried to find every bit of courage he still had. If he had asked Evan to run away with him, he could tell him he loved him. He opened his mouth. He closed his eyes.

\- I got an admission letter from a school in San Myshuno.

Damn. 

He couldn't see Evan, not with that lightning. But he could hear his voice, and it sounded... hurt.

\- So you're leaving? For good? - Was Evan shaking from the cold? He seemed to be shaking. - This is not just a visit to your grandparents in London, or a vacation with your parents. When the school year ends, you'll pack your bags and leave, and I'll never see you again.

\- That's not true. I'll stay for the summer, and I'll visit on weekends and holidays. - Things were going wrong. Dab couldn't see what was happening to Evan, but it didn't look right. - I haven't even decided if I want to go or not. I want to go, but I can't stand leaving everything behind. I can't stand leaving _you_ behind. 

Dab didn't dare to move, he barely dared to breathe. And after what felt like a century of silence, Evan spoke.

\- Take me home. - His voice cracked. - Please.

He didn't wait for him to say it again. Bitting his lip to stop any tears from falling, Dab turned the car around and made his way back into Willow Creek, into picturesque houses painted pastel and perfect lawns, a suburbian paradise that felt more wrong with each passing second. The river that ran to places he wouldn't dare to go. Without a single word, he drove, not even daring to look at Evan, see what he had done with a few words. Damn him and his big mouth. Should have kept quiet, burned the letter and continued with his life. 

Their houses appeared after a good chunk of driving under an uncomfortable silence. Dab stopped the car in front of Evan's house and turned to say goodbye to him, only to realize he was crying.

\- Hey, what's wrong? - He asked, scooting closer to him.

\- If you leave, I'll hate you. - Whispered Evan. - But if you stay, I'll hate myself. Because you work yourself to the bone, and you're a goddamn genius when it comes to art, and if you stayed because I forced you to, I would stop you from doing what you love. And I can't do that to you. You have no reasons to stay here.

\- Of course I do. - Dab licked his lips nervously. - I have... my family. My friends. I have you. 

\- But is that enough?

He had no response to that. On one side, he had everything familiar, everything he already knew he loved. But on the other side... Who could say if he didn't have some grand adventure waiting for him? There were surprises, mysteries. He remembered hearing his father tell him bedtime stories about knights fighting dragons and climbing towers, but he would find no dragons or towers there. The whole town felt like a finished chapter in a book, nothing else to show.

Without he even noticing, Evan swung his legs over the center console and sat between Dab's legs, and now that he had light, he could see him. Cheeks wet with tears, eyes red, mouth quivering. And before he could say anything, he felt Evan's lips against his own. They were slightly chapped, but sweet and warm. After a few seconds, when the shock passed, he laced his hands around his waist and pulled him closer, chests pressed against each other. He could feel Evan's heart beating against him like a drum, reminding him they were alive and pressed tighly, closer than they had ever been, tongues hesitantly venturing into mouths. 

It was hard thinking like that, with his mind clouded. He couldn't find the force to care if somebody saw them or if Susan the car smelled like wet dog. He was very much making out with his best friend. And he was enjoying it, Evan's fingers pressed on the sides of his face, playing with his hair trailing from his jaw to his neck, and that sensation of losing his breath after a few minutes. It was everything he had daydreamed about for months.

Evan pulled away and rested his forehead against his, eyes still closed.

\- I just gave you another reason to stay.

And it was a hell of a reason. It was more than Dab had ever asked for. With his mouth still humid from the kiss and his heart still beating like crazy, he thought about staying. Telling San Myshuno to piss off. And again, his lips betrayed him.

\- I can't. - He said. - Evan, I can't... I can't stay with you just because you're scared of being alone. Whatever this was...

\- You don't want it. - He pulled away, lips so tightly pressed together they turned white, the light behind him making a faded yellow halo appear behind his head.

\- No, no... I mean yes! I mean, I... - _Calm down. Say what you have to say._ \- Would you have done this if I hadn't told you I wanted to leave? Is this just your twisted way to keep me here, with kisses and treats like a little lap dog?

He knew he had phrased it wrong when Evan's whole face twisted with rage.

\- Don't put words into my mouth! I'm not the needy helpless baby you think I am! I kissed you because... - He stopped, as if he had run out of batteries. - Because I just want you to stay!

\- Well, answer my question! - Dab straightened his back, making Evan recede a little. - If I would still be here in a year, or 10 years, or forever, would you still have kissed me? Because if not, then I might as well start packing my bags right now! 

It was spiraling out of control now. He could see Evan's chest rising and falling as his breathing turned harsher and more irregular. He could feel his own face turning red, the same feeling of enragement that his parents had always described as one of his biggest flaws. Realizing he still had his hands wrapped around Evan, he quickly pulled them away, immediately hating how cold the bitter winter air made them. He had never felt so angry in his life.

But then, Evan's lips quivered, and he feared he would start crying again. The anger inside him cooled off almost immediately, leaving behind the realization he had done something very wrong.

\- I can't believe I thought I loved you.

If Evan had punched him, it would have hurt less. Before he could apologize, he was opening the door and marching towards his house, head down and hands balled up in fists. _I thought I loved you._

Dab got up from the car, closed the door and sneaked into his bedroom again, slipping under the covers of the bed with his clothes still on, tears prickling his eyes. I loved you. Past. I thought. Also past. I thought I loved you. An illusion of love, now ended. The spell was broken, and under easy going, always smiling Dab Howlter was left barely nothing, an odd kid that had no idea what he was doing. What was to love there?

Face twisted and quivering lips. A warm mouth and gentle hands, fingertips brushing the sensible skin on his neck. A road away from him, but somehow as distant as a star or the moon.

The next morning, he sat between his parents as they were having breakfast.

\- If I go take the campus tour - he started - will you guys come with me?

They smiled and nodded, so proud of their little baby. Their little baby that felt like he had just done the biggest mistake of his life.


	8. Fire That Burns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things "heat up" in this chapter inspired by The Circa Waves' song Fire That Burns. Enjoy.  
> See what I did there? Heat? Fire?  
> I'm funny.

Sleeping is not very useful if you don't even get to rest. 

When morning came, he realized he had barely slept. He had spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, opening and closing his eyes, sometimes raising a hand to touch his lips. Sometimes, the only thing on his mind was the kiss. Then, it was the fight right after it. No matter how many times he rolled around, he couldn't shake it off. Not the memory, but the feeling that he had done something wrong.

He needed time to think. Unfortunately, it was also time for school. 

Hallways full of people, and stares that always made him paranoid, making him think those people knew what had happened. And in the middle of the crowd (always in the middle of the crowd, always surrounded by a group of beloved admirers), there was him. Out of reach, looking at him like he had looked that night, cheeks red and lips a little parted, just like he was right after they pulled away. 

Too painful. Nope, not happening. 

Which meant he had to find a way to stay home. And that meant doing something that would be impossible for Evan on any given day.

He was playing sick to skip school.

\- Evan, you're going to be late. - His mother entered the room, surprised to see him in bed still. Usually, he was the first one to get up, always interested in going to school. - What's wrong with you?

\- I feel bad. - He moaned, coughing a little for good measure. Evan was an embarassingly bad actor by any account, and he was now reconsidering whether his mother would buy the whole thing. - My throat is sore. My head hurts. I think I need to stay home.

She opened her mouth, as if she was about to call him out on his more than obviously lie, but then she rethinked and her expression softened.

\- My poor baby. Of course, I don't want you to get worse. - She placed a kiss on his forehead and smiled. - I'll be out for a few hours, but I swear I'll be home on time to have lunch with you. 

\- Sure. I'll be fine.

As his mother left the room, he wondered whether his parents were going to start acting nicer around him, now that they had dropped a bomb on his life. He could still see himself at the dinner table, staring at them as they explained how the whole divorce process would go. How Evan had just walked out and slammed the front door, heading to Dab's house. 

Looking back, everything would have been ok if he had just went up the stairs. No late night driving, no revelation, no kiss. 

What was wrong with him? Evan was a logical person. Rational. Calm. When confronted with problems, he knew how to solve them. He didn't run off to make out with his best friend in his car.  

Even though it had been... how could he describe it? It felt like he had been in the middle of a storm, and then suddenly the wind was calming down and the rain was gone. It even felt like the snow outside was melting. Evan had felt like he was coming home after a long day, like the world was only them, teenagers in a car, lips pressed like sealing wax and hearts beating together. 

It was comforting. Everything he had dreamed for months, if you took away the tears and all the revelations of the day.

_Shame it won't happen again_. He thought, and stood still, waiting for the sound of the front door closing. He was officially home alone. 

So now he had until lunch to figure out what he was going to do about... everything, really. Grumbling, he made his way downstairs and poured himself some coffee, sitting in front of the kitchen's window to watch the house across the street. He could see Mrs. Howlter, looking for something in her purse, screaming something into the house. And Mr. Howlter, with only one sleeve of his lab coat on and a piece of toast dangling from his mouth. They were late, as always.

He waited for that mane of curly hair, that devilish smile, but the Howlters closed the door behind them. Dab was staying. And that made focusing much harder, since now he knew one of his biggest problems was sitting just across the road. Probably playing sick, just like him. The bastard.

And just like that, the memories were back, flooding in like someone had turned on a faucet inside his brain. Slender fingers on his waist, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. His own fingers sliding between Dab's curls, running up and down his neck. Dab's tongue next to his, hesitant and gentle. 

Evan stopped, looking at his own reflection in the window's glass. Was he seriously puckering up his lips?

Blushing, he tore his eyes away from the street and back into his mug, taking a sip from the coffee. Could he be any more desperate? He should be thinking about anything else, like his parents' divorce of his homework. Homework was such a nice, non-romantic thought. Maybe he could start with math, or science, and then he could go revise his chemistry notes and...

\- Why do I even try? - He groaned. There was no way he was forgetting the kiss. There was no way he was pushing Dab outside of his mind. 

The problem wasn't the kiss, you see? The problem was what had happened after it, the fight. He had never seen Dab so angry. No, he wasn't angry. It was more like he was hurt, which seemed a little ridiculous to Evan. Why would he be, when he had a new life all ahead of him, and Evan was the one still stuck in Willow Creek with the drama and the heartbreak? He never imagined they would be separated. He never imagined Dab would leave. Was it dumb he thought they had a shot at ending up together?

_I can't stay with you just because you're scared of being alone._

The feeling of hearing those words was still fresh inside of him. Evan would be lying if he didn't say he was a little offended. First, because Dab was straight up accusing him of being a needy little shit. Second, because at that point he was probably just making up excuses to turn him down, when he could simply tell him he was in love with someone else.

Someone who wasn't afraid, apparently. Which felt unfair to Evan, since he was not scared, goddamnit. 

He wondered if Dab thought of him as a stupid damsel in distress, waiting in his tower for a knight to pass by and save him from the big bad dragon. He was tired of everybody looking at him like one of his mother's fancy vases, too fragile, ready to break with a single touch. Was it because he was quiet? Was it because his family's history of being messed up was so well-known that it was almost tatooed on his forehead?  

He shouldn't have cried that night, in the car. The way Dab had looked at him when he noticed the tears falling down... A damn knight to the rescue, sword in hand to slay whatever danger waited ahead. If at least here was any way to show him Evan wasn't as frail as he thought... Not that he cared what Dab thought. Never in a million years.

_Would you have done this if I hadn't told you I wanted to leave?_

Evan wasn't sure of his answer. He had dreamed about kissing Dab ever since he knew what kissing was, sitting by his mother's side as she watched soap operas. On his weakest moments, where those dreams got the best of him, he thought about kissing in the rain and big moments that made audiences hold their breaths.

But thinking about kissing Dab and actually going ahead with it were two very different things. Because he had experienced both, and while his imagination wasn't nearly as satisfying, it was easier. It had no consequences. For years, he had tried to find some kind of courage to push him over the edge, but it was _hard_. It felt like he was playing a chess game with life itself, never knowing whether he was winning or losing. 

He had kissed him in part because he thought he would never do it again, and in part because he wanted to do it again. Because he wanted to make sure he had made one thing despite his fear in all of his life. Something to prove he could not play safe, he could risk it all. 

_And now that you've risked it all, what are you going to do?_

That was the problem, really. Because it felt like life as he knew it had an expiration date, and it was graduation day. After that day, his parents were divorcing, and he was off to college, and his best friend would no longer be there. And everything was either going to be great or very, very bad. Evan hated that feeling, feeling that he could not have control over even his own life. 

For once, there was no plan. There was no logical thinking that could get him out of that situation. And Evan Pancakes was truly, sadly, lost. 

And sitting down with a mug of coffee (now cold, since he had been too busy contemplating on the mess his life was to drink it) wasn't helping. Not at all. Because he stood still when everything seemed headed to the right place. Now that life was taking an 180º spin...

His phone buzzed, pushing him out of his thoughts. He had a message, and somehow he already knew who was sending it.

**We need to talk.**

Is there a worse combination of four words than that? You read that sentence and you immediately start recounting all the mistakes you've done in the past two weeks, and it just feels like someone has your heart in clutches. In Evan's case, he didn't have to think too much about what he had done wrong. 

What was he supposed to do? He was no coward, and he wasn't exactly afraid. Dab was still his friend, his best friend, and he knew him well enough to understand that he would not treat him like trash, even if he wanted to. No, he was far too nice for that. If he had one fear, it was that he would let emotions take control over him again. That moment, when he had kissed Dab, had felt amazing. Taking control, giving the first step. And the kiss itself... well, it was what it was. Those moments were amazing, all rush of adrenaline and breath caught in his throat. But he knew that if he kissed Dab again, the aftermath would be equally disastrous.

Still... he had been able to bottle it up for years. Why not for a minute or two? He still wanted to be friends with Dab, and he wanted to show him he was not always a crying mess. Maybe they could talk like nothing had happened, joke about how they were both lying to their parents to skip school. Be normal. Be happy. 

Evan wondered how to answer in a fun, casual way. And just for good measure, he waited a few minutes, just not to look desperate. Finally, he texted a quick "ok" and went back to his panic. 

His mother said she would be gone until lunch, and it was still pretty early. So he had enough time to get dressed, talk to Dab, go back home and pretend he hadn't even been out. Still, he needed to find something to stress about, because that always made Evan calmer, somehow. Stressing was just natural to him, so if he was too relaxed, he always thought something bad was about to happen.

He went back upstairs and got dressed. Then he changed his clothes, sat around thinking about how he should start the conversation ("Oh, hey, friend, I haven't seen you since we made out in your car! How have you been?" seemed too much), and changed his clothes again. The whole discussion the night before was playing in his mind the whole time, while he tried to figure out what every word and every gesture had meant. 

Finally, when he couldn't take it any longer, he got up and left. 

Usually, walking to the other side of the road was easy and quick. But now, it felt like he was running a marathon. It wasn't like he was afraid, though...

Ok, maybe just a little. 

He couldn't explain his fear, he only knew it was there, and it was eating him alive, like a wildfire eats a florest. Evan was actually starting to fear there was smoke coming from his mouth and ears, because he felt like he was in a fever, starting to wonder whether he was really pretending to be sick. 

Still, it came the time when he was face to face with the Howlter household's front door, and he had to knock.

Evan waited for less than a minute, and for those mere seconds, he considered running back inside and hiding. The door opened before he could, and Dab was in front of him, hair damp from a shower and his pajamas still on. The whole sight just made Evan's heart jump in an embarassing way, especially since he had seen Dab like that before. But after the last night, it just felt more... personal. 

\- You're early. I was still getting ready. - Oh, no. For some reason, Evan felt a lot more awkward than he already was.

\- I just... need to get this over with. - He said, kicking at the ground. - You're right. We need to talk about... you know.

He knew. The way he looked at him, more serious than he had ever expected to see him, showed that he was probably also thinking about the kiss. Evan just couldn't figure out if he had enjoyed it as much as he had.

\- Come in. - Dab stepped aside, letting him step into the house. - Do you want anything to eat? Anything to drink?

\- You sound like your mother.

Dab chuckled, a taste of their old lives back. Maybe it would be easier to drop that subject of kissing and fighting and go back to chirping at each other, playfully teasing. Evan felt like that would be a whole less tense and a lot more familiar.

He wasn't used to fight with Dab, and he wasn't used to seeing him so serious. For once, he wasn't cracking jokes at every opportunity. He just stood there, hands behind his back, eyes staring at anything but Evan. He didn't look angry, or sad, for that matter. He just looked thoughtful. Although Evan could not even imagine what thoughts he was hiding behind that expression.

\- Anyway... - He started, out of the blue, startling Evan more than a little. - I said some things, and I regret them. I didn't think before I spoke, so now I just want to say I'm sorry.

\- Ok. I also didn't talk... or act like I was myself. I hope you can forgive me.

\- I do. 

They stood in silence, a few feet apart, and Evan couldn't help but feel like the whole thing felt like a badly acted soap opera. Where were the fond smiles, the quick jokes? If they had forgiven each other for the things they had said, why were they still so stiff and uncomfortable? 

He looked at the floor and counted how many steps it would take to be near Dab, and understood that now any distance, no matter how small, felt like an ocean when it came to that boy. Because he had touched him like few did, and now the air between them was cold and bitter, it made him feel like a tiny island out on the sea, alone, a tiny dot on a map. How many steps separated them, anyways? One, two, three... Four? Five, maybe? How easy would it be to walk over to him and...

What would he even do?

\- So, we're good now? Back at normal? - He asked, desperate to run away from that line of thinking, since he didn't know where it would lead him.

Dab's lips twisted in a smile, and Evan tried to tear his eyes away from those lips, but he couldn't. 

And then, Dab was laughing. A humorless laugh, something dry and sarcastic.

\- I'm sorry, I can't do this. - Shaking his head, he crossed his arms and sent him a quick glance before looking again once more. - You sound so innocent, Evan. Like you weren't even there. Like you didn't even...

_Like you didn't even kiss me_.

\- Well, what do you want me to say? Do you want me to cry again? - He mimicked Dab's posture, crossing his own arms and trying to look at him in the most defiant way he could. It felt weird, defying someone. But it also felt good, having control once again. - I have bad news for you, if you wanted that. 

\- Of course I don't want that. - Dab bit his lip, twisting it between his teeth, and Evan's whole stand felt childish as he felt his cheeks burn a little.

\- What do you want, then?

He mentally facepalmed himself, realizing how dirty his voice had sounded when he had said that, sounding more like a purr than a question. He had gone there to set things straight and now he was talking in a bedroom voice. That wasn't going well.

\- I want the same of you. I want things to go back to normal. - The early morning light made Dab seem younger than his 17 years, it made his face so pretty Evan was having trouble looking away. - But I can't forget. Because I try to imagine you as I always see you and then I remember how you kissed me. 

\- You make it sound like it was one-sided. - Said Evan, trying to hide how hurt he was starting to feel. - Didn't you feel anything?

And now, after sounding like an out-of-touch call-girl, he was venturing into his overly emotional side. It was almost like the universe enjoyed seeing him embarassed by himself.

Dab waited for a second before responding, eyes fixated on the ground. It was a torture seeing him like that, impossible to read, impossible to understand. 

\- If I tell you what I felt, I think I'll risk this entire thing. Because... - He smiled, not in his usual cheerful way, but in a way Evan had never seen him smile. - Because I actually liked it. Judge me all you want, but I liked it. I almost forgot who we were, and what was happening. And call me crazy, but I wanted to do it again. 

That was not what he expected to hear.

He expected Dab to tell him it had felt like a dumb kid trying to make his crush stay, and then he hit him with that. Evan couldn't wrap his head around the fact Dab had actually enjoyed kissing him as much as he had enjoyed kissing Dab. And now, those four or five steps between them seemed to hurt a little more. 

\- And what's keeping you from doing that? - _Just admit you don't like me so I can move on, just admit it_...

\- For starters, it wouldn't be fair. I'm leaving remember? - _Trust me, I remember._ \- Second, while I really, really liked it, I also felt like a jackass for kissing you. 

\- Oh. Elaborate.

The look Dab sent him had a lot of emotions, from surprise to pain, and he was too confused to register them all. 

\- Do you remember when we were kids, and you would always fall and scrape your knee, so I took you inside to band-aid it? Or when the older kids made fun of you and I tried standing up to them? - Evan nodded. He did remember those days, flinching away from the touch of cotton balls full of rubbing alcohol, and trying to make sure Dab didn't get himself killed. Looking back, that was probably the beginning of his long, heart-wrenching crush. - I always protected you, or at least I tried. And last night, when I saw you cry, I should have comforted you. I should have brought you back to your house and put you to sleep. Instead, I... - There was a loss for words for a second, and then Dab turned around, so Evan couldn't really see him any more. - You were sad. Vulnerable. I felt like I was taking advantage of you.

Again with the vulnerable. Again with the hero complex, and the ditzy damsel stuck in a tower. Again with that anger that felt more like hurt, clouding Evan's judgement.

\- Have you even though about asking me what I wanted instead of simply assuming it? - He asked through gritted teeth. - I don't want or need anyone to be my personal body guard. Yes, I cried. I'm not going to lie and say that I didn't. Am I weaker because of that? No!

\- I never said you were. 

\- You implied it! - He was pacing now, feet moving almost as quick as his mouth. - But I have a thing to tell you! I don't want you to look at me like a kid, because you're only a handful of months older than me, in case you don't remember. I know what I want, and I don't need you to flock around me like a mother hen. And in case you forgot, I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around.

Dab looked at him for the first time in the conversation. No hidden glances, no subtle stares. Eye to eye, like it used to be.

\- I did take control after that, you know?

\- Bullshit if you did, Howlter! I kissed you, and you have to admit it! - If he had any drop of rationality left, he would understand this was a very bad idea. Unfortunately, Evan was pretty much out of rational thinking. - Come on, just say it. 

\- What are you even trying to prove here? 

Evan smiled, cockier than he had ever felt. Was that how Dab felt everyday? Because it felt nice to be the one teasing for once, the one pushing the limits, making the other blush, because Dab was definitely blushing. It was so good he almost forgot what they were talking about. He almost forgot that in his mindless pacing, he had cut the distance between them, and he was not close enough to count the freckles on Dab's nose. 

\- Say it. - He chirped, letting a smile creep over his face. - I promise I won't tell anybody.

He looked so cute when he blushed, cherry blossom pink cheeks and suddenly shy. If Evan knew he looked so cute when awkward, he woud have done this whole thing a lot sooner.

\- Fine! - Dab threw his hands in the air and sighed. - You kissed me. And I liked it. And you don't need me to be your body guard, and you're a strong independent man, or whatever you want to hear. Happy now?

Was he happy? Evan had to admit, teasing was a lot more fun than getting to a conclusion, especially since Dab handled awkwardness a lot better than him. Was it wrong that he had wanted hours of that, getting closer and closer without even realizing, playfully reminding him of touches in the dark and the friction of lips touching? Was it stupid that he felt his chest heating up just be being so close?

\- Very much. - He mumbled, suddenly remembering he wasn't cocky or confident like Dab. It was his turn to blush again, and turn his eyes to the ground. - I guess I'll show myself out, then. 

_Good going, Evan._ He though, feeling the shame of his dumb words falling over his shoulders. _Do you want to sound even more desperate? Why don't you follow the example of dear old mom and camp in front of his front door? Just in case he didn't realize you want him!_

\- It feels good, doesn't it? - Dab's voice startled him again, especially since it had regained it's smugness. - You were really enjoying yourself.

\- I'm sorry, do you have some sort of copyright over sass?

Delightful, cheerful laughing. Chirping on his ear as always, and getting closer. Closer and closer, sending chills up his spine, making the air feel like fire, burning his lungs. He didn't even dare to turn around.

\- I'm not going to lie, I liked the kiss, and I liked seeing you stand up to me. - _Deep breaths. And for the sake of everything that is dear, don't look at his lips._ \- Maybe I was wrong. You're not that innocent.

That was obviously some kind of game. Evan was probably supposed to tease him back with that low, amused voice, and they could stay like that for hours to come, standing in Dab's living room, getting closer by the second.

Unfortunately, Evan was not good at playing those kind of games.

\- Are you just going to stand there or...

Before he knew it, Dab had his arms over his neck and his lips over his, and it felt just as nice as the first time. Evan let out a small whimp of surprise before he opened his mouth almost instinctively.

It was just like the first time, sweet and familiar, but still new. They stumbled a little, trying to find balance, before they fell over the couch, Dab laying between Evan's hips, laughing and smiling between quick pecks on the lips. 

\- This is a bad idea. - Mumbled Evan, still running his hands through Dab's back, trying to make sure it was real and it was happening. - This is a very... very bad idea.

\- Which only makes it more fun. - They laughed, and kissed again. And again. And again. 24 hours before, Evan had never kissed anybody. And now he had his life-long crush on top of him, tracing kisses from his mouth to his jawline, slowly going down his neck, bitting and sucking on delicate skin. Evan was trying his best not to moan, because he was sure he would look like an idiot.

He let his hands venture under his shirt, feeling how warm and soft his skin was to the touch, how his heart was beating on his chest, enjoying how each muscle tensed up to his touch, how not even Dab was resistant to that. He pushed his shirt up, letting it fall on the floor. No matter how close they were, it still didn't feel like it was enough. 

\- We should have done this years ago. - He sighed, putting a finger under Dab's shin to lift his head up. He smiled, making the skin around his eyes wrinkle. God, he loved his laughter lines. Evan let his hands run through his curls and let his lips fall on the corner of Dab's mouth, closing his eyes. Evan wasn't sure whether it was right to say that out loud, but it was hard bottling things up when they were like that, legs so intertwined they weren't sure which limbs belonged to who, and their bodies moving like that, like they were dancing with no music. 

When he felt Dab's lips touch his again, it was like he was melting. Nothing else mattered, only the feeling of their mouths moving together and his waist under his fingers and...

The sound of the door opening.

\- Sorry, kid, I think I forgot my... - Mr. Howlter stopped in the middle of his sentence, probably trying to understand what he was seeing. Because if he was not mistaken, his shirtless son was kissing his neighbors' son. And the whole position was compromising to say the least, since they had petrified mis-kiss when the door opened.

The spell was broken.

Evan shot upwards, pushing Dab to the other side of the couch while trying to hide his face. Mr. Howlter had been there for all of his life, a goofy almost-second-dad that told him jokes and compliments on his experiences. And now Evan had the image of his slightly traumatised face permanently burned to his brain. 

\- Uh, hey, dad! - If Evan was red as a tomato, Dab was not any better. - Evan was just helping me find... uh...

\- His shirt! - Evan screamed, pushing the piece of fabric into his best friend's hands. - He lost his shirt and I was helping him find it! Like a good friend!

\- The best friend!

\- The super platonic friend!

\- The friend that I definitely didn't kiss!

Mr. Howlter was still standing in front of them, not really sure what to say. Evan couldn't help but pity him a little, even though he was the source of his embarassment. The next Howlter-Pancakes bowling match was sure to be very fun, indeed, with a divorcing couple, a mentally scarred scientist and two "best friends" who were now on that very nice stage of friendship were they were undressing each other. Like pals do. 

Finally, Mr. Howlter grabbed a pair of goggles forgotten on the table.

\- I think Tabitha's calling me. - He said, very quietly.

\- And I think my mom is also calling me. - Said Evan, quickly getting up and praying his clothes weren't as disheveled as he thought they were. With his head low, he muttered a quick "bye, Mr. Howlter" and left, althought he really felt like laying on the middle of the road and waiting for a car to run him over, because that would be a lot less painful than whatever that exchange had been. 

Later, in the safety of his house, he curled up on his bed and, between the red cheeks and burning face, he found the stength to laugh in an almost schoolgirl giggling fashion, hiding his mouth behind his hands.

They had kissed again. No tears this time, just kisses. 

So, at least there was no bad blood between them. Evan had no doubt Dab was still leaving, and that nothing could ever happen between them. And although a part of him was sad he would not get to walk around holding Dab's hand and calling him his boyfriend, another part of him was happy it would end like that. Risking a relationship would mean having to break up in a matter of months, when he left or got tired of him. 

Maybe having his body and his kisses wasn't good enough. Maybe Evan still wanted more, real affection, real love.

But what he realized as he sat down hours later to eat with his mother was that it simply wasn't meant to be. They were too different, and their lives were heading different ways. Dab was destined to spend his life in a studio, bringing art to life. Evan was bound to a laboratory somewhere, surrounded by equations and experiments. He should be happy with what had already happened, instead of whinning about relationships. He had just kissed an amazing boy, who he liked very much and was, by the way, an excellent kisser. Evan didn't feel like he was in a position to ask for more.

\- What did you do today? - Asked his mother, noticing how quiet he was.

_You don't want to know._

\- Nothing. - He answered. - How about you?

She bit her lip, and he knew, without her even saying, that she had been to visit the lawyer behind the divorce. Maybe get everything ready, so as soon as Evan left the house for good, she could be done with her marriage. His mother was a terrible liar, and he already knew she was going to change the topic before she did.

\- What's that on your neck?

Slowly turning his eyes to his glass of water, he caught a quick reflexion of himself. On the side of his neck there was a gigantic red spot where Dab had been kissing it, marks of lips and teeth, and he could already imagine how purple the whole thing would be the next day, when every one of his classmates would be able to see it, because not even a turtleneck would be able to hide that he had a goddamn hickey on his goddamnneck.

_God damn you, Dab Howlter._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you were expecting some smut, weren't you?  
> Ya nasties.


	9. What You Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dab is confronted with his feelings and his plans for the future and understands a few things in this chapter inspired by Two Doors Cinema Club's song What You Know.  
> Enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we're almost at the end! And the last chapters will all take couse in a single day, so don't feel confused in a week or so, when I post the next chapter.

Quick kisses and fingers brushing just for seconds. Stolen moments between classes, hoping the shelves full of books of the library would keep the secret of their lips brushing, and before their parents got home, mostly in Dab's bedroom, giggling between pecks on the lips and wasting hours just looking at each other, without saying a word. All those were new things to them, to their friendship.

And still, there was something familiar about it, like they had been doing it for years. And the familiar part of their friendship was still there, the dumb private jokes and the nights spent watching movies and playing video games. And Dab could say, without a shadow of question, that he had never been so happy in his entire life as he was with Evan by his side. 

It wasn't a relationship. He knew that. Nobody knew what had happened during the past days, and they didn't introduce themselves as boyfriends. In fact, neither one of them had dared to ask that fateful question, until that particular afternoon. Surprisingly, Dab was the one to open his mouth and ask:

\- What are we?

They were laying side by side on his bed, silent and staring at the ceiling, with interlocking fingers and a feeling that nobody else in the world existed. But when Dab spoke, Evan turned his head to look at him, caught off guard. They had never expected go-with-the-flow Dab to be the one to ask for a label, something to define exactly what was that behavior of secret kisses when nobody was looking. 

\- What do you mean? - Asked Evan, eyes widened by a kind of innocence that felt too much like an act to Dab. He knew exactly what he meant. But just like him, he had been avoiding that conversation. - We're friends. We've always been friends.

\- Do you kiss all of your friends?

Evan lowered his eyes, a light blush rushing over his cheeks.

\- Good point.

\- It's just that... - He had prepared a speech for that ocasion. He had planned it to the last second, and he was generally good at talking. In his plan, he told Evan exactly what he felt, so he could continue with a light heart. But near that boy, that boy with long eyelashes, soft eyes and that smile that had made the delights of Dab's heart for years, he was just mumbled words and a quick pulse. In summary, a hot mess. - This is... not something I'm used to. Kissing friends.

\- Me neither. - Sighed Evan. - You were my first kiss, you know? But you're also my best friend.

\- I know. - Their hands were still together, fingers twisted around each other's, and Dab couldn't help but think of how familiar those fingers were, how many times their parents had forced them to hold hands while crossing the street, and how many times he had laced those fingers around his own to drag Evan somewhere, the sound of laughter like thunder in his throat. There was a different kind of thunder now, something inside his veins that came to life everytime he touched him. 

\- What if we're ruining our friendship?

Slowly, carefully, Evan took his hand away from Dab's. They were sitting now, face to face, knees curled under their bodies, so close they could feel each other's breaths. 

Dab looked at his face, not really sure of what to do, not really knowing what he was looking to find. Not really sure of what he _wanted_ to find. He wanted Evan to love him, to give him back those feelings, not let him be another case of unrequited love. But he knew that they were destined to part in a matter of months. Hell, his visit to the school's campus would be in the next day. If Evan loved him, it would torture him forever, knowing the boy he would give his life for was at his reach, but miles away. 

And how would he be able to stand those miles? How would he even be able to call him or visit him without feeling like the universe was robbing him of something truly sweet and pure, the best thing he could ask for in life? It wasn't fair that he had to choose between his dreams and Evan, because those things were interlocked in Dab's mind, one being part of the other. 

And that face, that face that Dab loved so much, was in front of him, unreadable.

\- I don't think we're ruining our friendship. - He said, after what felt like centuries of a deep, thoughtful silence. - But whatever this is...

\- You don't like it? - Was it a question or a statement? Dab wasn't sure.

\- I kind of do like it. This is new, and a little strange, but... - The words were coming off awkwardly, almost afraid of facing the world outside of his brain. His stomach twisted, trying to squeeze off some drops of courage. Just three words. Three little words with the power of setting him free. - I don't want us to be friends with benefits, or anything like that. I think you deserve better than that. I think... I think you deserve better than me. 

Just a little effort, and he would be there. He had been running a race for the previous months, and now he was almost at the end, just seeing the finish line. And even if he landed with his face on the dirt, he had to try.

Evan lowered his head, and Dab couldn't even try to read his features now.

\- I hope you're right. - He said. - I hope you're right and we deserve something different, because... Well, let's face it. You're leaving.

\- Not until graduation. And we still have the summer. And...

\- Shhh. Let me finish. - Evan took a deep breath, and Dab was simply amazed by how their tables had turned, him being so confused and anxious, and Evan so calm and resigned. Like he already knew what would happen. - I don't want to hold you down. I want you to go to an amazing school where you can do what you love, and I want you to use your talent, and I want you to be _happy_.

Dab's hands tightened in fists over his knees.

\- You make me happy. - Why was his lips quivering? Why were his hands shaking? It was Evan in front of him, it should be easy. - Do you even understand how much you mean to me? 

\- Yes. I'm your friend. And somehow, we've ended up here, and I've kissed you so many times I lost count, and... - He stopped, eyes wandering away from him. - And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I put us through this. Because I should have told you something a long time ago. 

His hand searched for Dab's once again, his grip tight, stronger than Dab thought Evan capable of. 

\- What do you want to tell me? - _What do you want me to tell you?_

Evan opened and closed his mouth a few times, at a loss for words. And when his eyes seemed to start watering, a thin veil of tears forming, he simply laughed, like he was trying to brush something off his mind.

\- It doens't matter anymore. - He leaned in closer to Dab and planted a small kiss on his cheek, something almost childish, something they did sometimes when they said goodbye as children. Compared to the kisses they had traded over weeks, that one was the most pristine. And yet, it felt too overwhelming to Dab. - I'm just too late. I should get going.

Dab blinked, surprised, and looked at his clock.

\- It's barely 5 pm. You're not that late.

When Evan got up, smiling and grabbing his backpack, it almost looked like they had just spent hours in a normal conversation, instead of discussing whatever their relationship was. Still, there was something too similar to sadness in his eyes to let Dab rest.

\- That's not what I meant. - He said. - Hope that campus trip goes ok. See you around.

Before Dab would say another word, Evan was already out, and the sound of the front door closing came in a matter of seconds. Dab was left alone in the house, listening to his heart beat and resting a hand over the place Evan's lips had touched his cheek. 

\- What was that all about? - He asked, to no one in particular. 

Of all the enigmatic conversations they had had, that one ought to be the worst. No matter how many times Dab twisted it around his mind, he couldn't find sense in Evan's words. Well, he couldn't find much sense in his own words, to be honest. He had held the perfect opportunity in his hands, and still he had found a way to chicken up at the last second, like he always did. 

At least he was right about one thing. Evan certainly deserved someone better than him, a little coward that ran when things got serious. 

He tried to distract himself until his parents got home by doing homework. It was unreal, Dab Howlter doing homework voluntarily. If word got out, he would have news outlets parked outside his house trying to capture that one of a kind moment. When had his life turned into such a mess that he actually preferred to do homework than deal with his problems?

It didn't take long until he heard the twist of the key in the lock, and he shot upwards to go greet his parents.

They were excited with taking him to San Myshuno the next day, and had already bought every possible map of the city. They discussed attractions and streets like they had already been there, like Dab was already studying and living there and they knew the place from the many visits they made to see him. Seeing how happy they were for him, he couldn't help but smile, even thought his mind felt clouded by negative thoughts.

Dinner was fish tacos, and his father even baked a cake. By the end of the night, when his father had gone to bed, he was left alone with his mother, watching the momentum conserver. It was usually distracting. Not so much that night.

\- Mom, can I ask you a question? - He asked.

\- Sure, son.

\- How did you told dad you loved him?

Her smile or expression didn't change, still happy and calm. Dab wondered how some people were just lucky enough to land themselves a relationship so easily, while he had to worry about frustrating things, like unreturned feelings and distance and time and how simply crushing it was to know that the one you love is so close and yet so far, and you can never find the courage to tell them how you feel.

\- I feel like you're coming to me for advice. - She said. - Is this about... someone I know?

Dab turned his eyes to a corner of the room, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. Of course his dad had told her about... the incident.

\- Maybe. - He cleared his throat, still feeling like someone had lit a fireplace inside him. - I just... I get ready, I plan what I want to say. And then I get in front of him and nothing comes out, and usually I just make the situation _worse_! And honestly... is it even worth it at this point? If we started dating right now, I would still leave when the summer ends. And it's a shame, really, because I finally feel like we could be something more!

She pondered for a bit, and Dab wondered if there was even anything that could be done to help his case.

\- You know, Dab, love isn't easy. - She started, calmly, with long spaces between her words, like she was still considering what was the right thing to say. - Really, it isn't. Do you have any idea of how many ex-girlfriends your father has? I was actually married a long time ago, you know? What I'm trying to say is that the people who find themselves right in front of the one they love are rare, and love is not something to go to waste. But it's also hard sometimes. It's normal to be scared that the one you love won't love you back. And if you can't find the courage to confess your feelings, then you shouldn't force it. What must happen will happen.

Dab let his fingers circle some splashes of paint that had fallen on the table during some project of his.

He was ok with things taking their own time and pace. He was usually ok with sitting back and letting all the pieces fall together.

If he was so calm normally, why was Evan, of all people, making him filled with such an intense want of saying everything at once, while still wishing to stay quiet? What if this time sitting back would mean letting the one he loved slip through his fingers like sand or water? What if they only had a chance, and they were wasting it?

There were many questions he would have liked to ask, like why were things so hard when his mind wasn't clouded by childhood innocence or grown-up preocupations, like what he wanted in life. Why couldn't he just love somewhere that neither time nor space could touch, a little bubble of his own where the only thing that existed was Evan and those beautiful afternoons watching the sunset from his balcony, or those long stroles through the park when they just wanted to be alone together. 

Why things weren't easy. 

\- I think you should go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow. - His mother, gave him a tap on the shoulder and got up. - Good night. Don't let the bed bugs bite.

They were supposed to leave with Susan in the morning, and go through a guided visit of the school's campus. According to an e-mail Dab had received a few days before, they would also visit the local gallery, where the artwork of some students was in exhibition. Dab only hoped they put up one of his nice paintings.

He felt excited. God, of course he felt excited. His artwork would be hanging in a gallery, and he was bound to go to one of the best art schools in the world with a scholarship. It was a dream. Even through the doubts and the butterflies on his stomach, he still found happiness. 

Dab closed eyes, wishing for sleep. Maybe it was better to go. Maybe that air filled with smoke and new smells would feel unfamiliar, but it would clear his mind. A few days, a few weeks, a few months, and maybe he would know exactly what to do and say to make everything ok again, to take things back to that place where they were just two kids, scrapping their knees and learning about the world around them, and nothing more. 

Dawn came with grey clouds and the threat of rain. The air was humid, filled with the smell of wet dirt, and the world outside shined with drops of water on every plant and every house. Dab almost felt like grabbing his sketchbook to draw it, but he knew he would be late if he just took the time to look for his pencils. Instead, he got up and, for the first time in his life, made his bed.

From under the door came the smell of eggs and bacon, and the sound of his parents' voices, talking and laughing and flirting. He took the time to look around his room, like it was the first time he was there. His eyes caught on the bear chair, the one his grandparents' had gotten him and that he had never found the guts to throw away. And his desk, full of loose papers, art supplies and...

The cassette. The mixtape. 

The song titles were written on the front with his best hand writing. He only had four songs, but he had an idea of another one he wanted to put there.

\- What's the use of it, anyway? - He sighed. It wasn't like he would use that useless piece of trash for anything. There was no song that could fix miles of distance and lack of bravery. 

A soft knock on the door pulled him back to reality.

\- Are you awake? - It was his dad's voice.

\- Yeah, I'll be out in a minute. - He put the cassette down and started searching his wardrobe for something to wear. It was hard to shake off that the people he would meet that day would be his classmates. His new ones. People he had never seen in his entire life. To Dab, who had spent his entire life in Willow Creek, knowing every face that passed through the road by his house and feeling comfortable waving to every single one of them, it was weird. 

Dressed, and after rushing to the bathroom to brush his teeth, he sat down at the table.

\- Big day today, huh? - His dad's eyes were sparkling. Dab knew he wasn't the greatest art enthusiast (he knew he had painted a painting some good years before, but the damn thing seemed to be missing), and still he was glad he felt so happy for him, for something he had done. Dab wasn't used to being the bright kid, the one with great accomplishments. That was usually...

No. He would not think about _him_.

\- Sure it is! - He forced a smile, knowing he wasn't being convincing at all, and turned his attention to his breakfast. - When are we leaving?

\- No, no, take your time eating. - Mom rushed a hand over his back, smiling. - Today is your day. Consider it an early birthday. We have all the time in the world.

Half an hour later, they were rushing into Susan, still putting on their coats while Dab looked for the keys, because, as always, they were late. The car's engine made a gutural noise that made Dab worry for a bit, but then they were on the road, and then on the highway. It was a long drive to San Myshuno, but he enjoyed driving, the light chatter of his parents in the backseat and the sound of some 80s song on the radio, trees passing by and a reason to keep his eyes away from the passenger's seat, where just a few weeks before, he had told his crying best friend he would be making that exact trip.

They had not even spent a full day apart, but Dab already missed him terribly. He wanted to call, or videochat, or anything really, but he didn't know whether Evan would push him away or, even worse, act like the last weeks had never happened, like he didn't knew how Dab's mouth tasted or how much he liked it when he bit his lip. 

Wait, what had he decided to do anyway? Exactly. Not think about Evan Pancakes. Simply push away any thoughts of a voice that sounded like honey or eyes that were so dark and deep he could almost fall into them. Nope. 

Oh, who was he trying to fool?

Maybe it was better to think about Evan. More precisely, find a way to feel less sad about those amazing weeks coming to an end. 

And against his optimistic upbringing, Dab had to see things through a darker side for once and accept that maybe he and Evan simply weren't meant to be. They were too different. Evan was brilliant, and although most people didn't realize it, he was funny and kind. Truly one of the best people Dab had ever met. And what did he have to offer? The one thing right he had ever done was getting into that school, and it was the thing that was tearing them apart.

Because Dab wasn't sure that a romantic relationship between them could keep up with the distance. He knew how lonely Evan could feel sometimes, how sometimes the only thing he needed was a hug. But if Dab was away, he wouldn't be there when Evan needed him. And nothing broke him more than the thought of leaving the boy he loved alone when he should be helping him. 

Did he even want a relationship just not to feel lonely? No, of course not. That was silly. He knew he wanted to be with Evan because he loved him, he loved him more than he had ever loved anybody in his life. But if he knew how difficult anything could ever be, then Evan probably knew it too. And smart as he was, why would he want someone like Dab, never the brightest student or the most dedicated friend?

\- Honey? - His mother's hand creeped from the backseat and nudged him on his shoulder. Dab had to resist the urge to yank the wheel and scream, because that would crash the car and if he died because of his pining, it would be embarassing. - We already passed the campus.

\- Oh, right. I knew that. - Dab cleared his throat, only now noticing how distracted he was. - I was testing you. Congratulations.

-...Sure.

He still had to drive a little more, because finding a place to park in a big city was just next to impossible. Wherever he looked, the only things he could see were skyscrapers that seemed to defy gravity itself, bars closed for the day, people dressing in weird fashion, and bright colors in every possible place. It was new and revitalizing. It almost made him forget of the big open areas and small suburban houses he had back home. 

Making their way from the parking spot to the school, he couldn't help but feel like there was a small ball of fire inside his stomach. There was a voice in his head telling him that maybe he wasn't good enough for that school, that he would get here and they would tell him it had been all a big mistake. 

The campus was gigantic. Big square buildings, and lawns that seemed to extend until Dab couldn't see any further. There seemed to be people sitting down in every possible place, not only students, but also teachers and other staff members, not even caring about the threat of rain. 

There as a small plaza in the middle of the campus, and there the Howlters found their tour guide, a teacher already surrounded by most of the students. 

Dab was used to being a little odd. His love for neon clothes and his unusual family history seemed to follow him everywhere at home, bitting at his heels with every step he took. But when he looked at those other students, he felt like they looked a lot like him. For once in his life, he felt normal. He wasn't the one that stood out immediately, the one that catches your eye, sometimes not for the best reasons. 

His parents were staying a few feet away, giving him privacy to talk to his future classmates. He tried making small talk with the nearest ones, trying to find out where they came from. Most of them were from San Myshuno, and a few from nearby cities. He was the only one from Willow Creek.

Soon, he was able to find his natural social charm again and engage, quickly looking to make friends. And he was actually enjoying himself. Until...

After walking around campus, listening to the teacher talk about the school's history and all the things they could do there, he started talking to a young couple that was also making the tour. Their names were Cynthia and Jake, and they were your classical high-school sweethearts, all pet names and holding hands and making Dab feel like throwing up. He was weirdly angry at those two, although they were nothing but nice.

\- So... - The tour was coming to an end, and they were nearing the school's gates. - How did you meet?

\- We're childhood friends, actually. - _Oh, for fuck's sake. -_ We grew up together.

\- But it took sometime for us to realize that we actually liked each other. - Said Cynthia, flashing a smile towards her boyfriend. They were so sweet Dab felt like he had to go get himself checked for diabetes as soon as he left. - What about you, Dab? Any... special somebody?

Dab didn't need a mirror to know he was blushing. The looks Cynthia and Jake were sending him were enough for him to know.

\- I-I wouldn't say... - He wouldn't say what? That he felt like going to lie down on the road and waiting for a car to run him over? - It's not like... I mean...

Jake gave him a pat on the back, like he was some kid. Dab knew he had good intentions, but still. 

\- It's alright buddy. We get it.

Dab sighed, throwing his head back. So much for not thinking about Evan. Even in that city that was all loud noises and bright colors, which were two of the less Evan things in the world, he couldn't get that boy out of his mind. What was wrong with him? Wasn't going there supposed to cool his head and help him see more clearly? If yes, then why did he feel so flustered? Was he cursed to be followed around by the thought of what could have been forever?

The tour guide was now taking them to the gallery, which Dab had almost forgot about. Although a part of him was still in awe of everything surrounding him, another just wanted to go home, eat a slice of cake and curl up in bed. Why did that day had to go on any longer?

The gallery had been closed just so they could go see their artwork hanging on the walls. Dab was sure it was probably just some silly thing to get them motivated. Still, he felt a little proud of himself for having something he had done in such a nice place like that. He wondered what painting of his they had chosen. 

The tour guide had left them to themselves, and now his parents were running around, trying to find his artwork. Dab stayed behind with Cynthia and Jake, to look at their things. Cynthia had made a nice sculpture, and Jake had taken a series of photographs. 

When he heard the sound of footsteps behind him, he turned to face his father, a gigantic grin on his face.

\- Come! - He said, grabbing him by his wrist and pulling him towards the other side of the room. - We found our painting!

Dab let himself be guided, wondering what they had decided to hand up on the wall. He hoped it was something good. 

He thought it was something good. A big part of the students were hanging near the place where the painting was hanging, so much that he and his father could barely push through. He could hear his mother, just a few steps away from them.

\- Yes, my son painted this. He's very talented. - There was a small pause. - Although... I wonder why he chose to paint... well... this. 

There was a little pushing, and some blurted insults, and then he was standing by his mother, facing the one painting he wished would never see the light of day. 

His favorite painting. The one where he had put Evan between all the butterflies, like he was one of them, or something. And he had painted him painfully well, every little detail captured with just enough precision to make his heart squeeze in his chest. 

So it was true. He couldn't hide. He couldn't hide from his feelings when fate itself seemed to play those cards on him. He thought he had already accepted things would never work out? Cue in cute childhood friends couple. He was starting to clear his head? Cue in terribly sappy painting that was basically shouting to the skies that his name was Dab Howlter and he was hopelessly in love with Evan Pancakes.

\- Oh, that's pretty. - Somehow, Jake and Cynthia had materialized next to him, basically giving him a heart attack. 

\- It's very romantic. - Said Jake, placing an arm over his girlfriend's shoulders. She looked at him, devilish smile and sparkling eyes.

\- Why don't you do cute things like that to me?

Dab felt his hands curl up into fists, and an intense pang of... what, exactly? What did he felt when he saw those two being all lovey-dovey with each other? Was it jealousy? Envy? He knew those words meant different things, but he wasn't paying attention in class when the teacher had explained it. However, he definitely knew someone who not only knew the difference between jealousy and envy, but also probably knew some synonyms for each. 

Did he want that? Was he angry that he had threw away his shot at lazily making his way through an art gallery with someone he loved, teasing and joking and making everybody else sick with how happy and in love he was? Was he angry that he was looking at the boy he loved, just in front of him, but he was still many miles away and wanted nothing to do with him? 

 _What do you want, after all?_ He asked himself, eyes still locked on the canvas, lips tightly shut. _You want him, don't you? Then why did you leave without saying the one thing you wanted to say?_

 _It's not that easy._ He thought back. How pathetic, arguing with himself. _I'm leaving._

_Don't you remember how happy you've been? Don't you want to feel like that for the rest of your life?_

_I do. I really do. But he probably doesn't feel the same way._

_You shouln't let your insecurities eat you away like that._

_And what if he doesn't like me back? Or worse, what if we fool ourselves into trying to make something long-distance work and everything crumbles down? I can't afford to loose him._

_You'll loose him if you keep acting like that._

\- Hey, are you ok? - It was Jake's hand on his shoulder again. Dab wondered if his internal monologue was too visible.

\- I... - He mumbled. - I need...

_I need him next to me. I need to hear his voice, and I need to hold his hand, and I need to feel his lips against mine, and I need to make him laugh. I need..._

\- I need to tell him. - Dab finally blurted out, jumping. - That's it! I have to tell him!

\- Uh... tell who what?

\- Doesn't matter! - He yelled, pushing some of the bystanders aside. - But thanks anyway!

\- You're... welcome?

Dab quickly squeezed out of the crowd surrounding him and started running towards the exit, sprinting past people and painting, and then sprinting past lamp posts and cars, trying to remember where in hell he had parked. Susan was waiting for him, old and not so reliable as always. Out of breath from the run and breathing heavily with his expectations, he opened the door and turned the ignition on. 

Screw distance. Screw difficult times, and screw difficult lifes. He had been carrying something for too long, and now it was time to tell Evan the truth. No more secrets and no more lies. His mother had said that what must happen will happen.

As he drove into the highway, he knew. He knew that whatever he was going to do, it was supposed to happen. 

And even if it wasn't, he wasn't heading back now.

Still in the gallery, Dil and Tabitha Howlter observed the grey clouds through the glass structure of the building. It was definitely about to start raining, but they had other thoughts in mind. More important ones. 

\- Where is he going? - Asked Dil.

\- Isn't it obvious? - Tabitha let out a proud smile. Her little baby, all grown up and in love. - He's going to tell him he loves him. Don't you love young love.

Dil kept his eyes on the clouds. He was immensely proud of his son, and his happiness was Dil's happines. And Evan Pancakes was probably one of the best kids he knew. If Dab ended up with him, no one would support their relationship more than Dil himself. But there was one thing that was keeping him back from positively beaming.

\- It's just that... - He looked at his wife, sighing. - He was our ride home.

\- Oh.

They watched the sky, letting out a long groan. What a bad day to rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, so many things to figure out, and so little chapters left! Whatever shall we do, dear readers?  
> Also, get your tissues out, because the next chapter is inspired by a sad song.


	10. The Scientist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some good ol' Pancakes bonding time.  
> Feat angst. Because c'mon. What would this fic be without angst?  
> Inspired by The Scientist, song by Coldplay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for taking so long to update. I'm sorry if the chapter seems badly written, I just wanted to finish it quickly for you. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

17 years.

That was 204 months. If he took away the 2 or so years where he was still learning how to talk or was too shy to approach Dab, then it was 15 years, so 180 months, 5475 days if he was correct. That was 131400 hours, 7884000 minutes, 473040000 seconds. 

473040000 seconds, and the one that had hurt him the most was the one when he heard the sound of his front door closing behind his back, the sound echoing through out the empty house. Suddenly, all of the things he could have said flooded over him, making him drown in his own regret. 

\- It's not fair. - He said to no one in particular. It wasn't fair that Dab made him feel that way, and that just as he was about to leave, Evan was suddenly ready to confess to him. It wasn't fair that he had prepared himself to graciously say goodbye, and was now locking himself in his room and putting on his headphones, hoping the loud music would muffle his thoughts.

There was nothing Evan wanted more in the world than go back and tell Dab what he had failed to say at first. He had been tiptoeing around the subject for weeks, letting his anxiety take over between kisses and stares, knowing he should be saying something. Knowing he should _do_ something.

But what exactly should he do if the only boy he had ever loved was leaving? What exactly should he do if their friendship had turned into something messy that had no label or name? 

Maybe it was his fault that things were so messy all of a sudden. Now that he was looking back, the first kiss had been on that night, when he had convinced Dab to drive around. Things had just spiraled down from that, with the tears and the kiss, and then those weeks were Evan had felt like he was under some drug, constantly light-headed and with his mind full of clouds that didn't allow him to think straight.

That was why he had apologized. He knew it was his neediness that was hurting Dab, holding him down. If he had just dealt with his problems instead of walking around and crying like a child, Dab would feel comfortable enough to show how happy he was to finally leave Willow Creek.

Sure, he had been smiling. Evan didn't knew why, but he seemed pleased with something. Whenever Evan looked at Dab, he would just see that slight twist of his upper lip that always made it seem like he was thinking of the greatest prank ever, or a glint in his eyes that made his guts clench in the weirdest most beautiful way. Wheneve Dab made him feel that way, Evan just wanted to lean over and kiss him, even if everybody was staring.

Suddenly, there was noise downstairs. His parents were home. 

They had barely spoken to each other during those weeks. They had barely spoken to him, too. As always, he felt like a ghost, sliding down the halls without saying a word, scared any noise he made would start a chain reaction. 

His father was turning more to work than ever, and his mother was usually out doing God knows what. Evan wondered whether she was visiting her attorney or had already found someone new. Evan was fully aware of his mother's relationships, especially the one with Mr. Howlter. However, he wasn't sure if he was ready to see her recover so quickly. Not that he wanted to see her miserable forever, or that he feared there was any grieving she had to do for her lost marriage. Whatever was left of love between his parents, it had died long ago. 

 _Maybe you're just jealous that the world's moving on without you._ He thought, fidgeting with his headphone's wire. 

People were... difficult. Especially the people he loved. They weren't like the experiences he made in his lab, where he could calculate what would happen if he put x into y. Evan couldn't really think into the realm of emotions and feelings. He felt safer between numbers and equations, things that could be solved with a calculator and some time. But there was no such thing as counting love, and he was already running out of time. 

\- Evan? - It was his father's voice, on the other side of the door. - Dinner's ready.

\- Already? - He asked, getting up. For how long had he been there, feeling sorry for himself? 

He jumped the steps down two at a time, and made his way towards the dining room table. Sitting down, he caught a glimpse of the Howlter residence on the other side of the street, and his heart gave a pathetic jump when he saw the light in Dab's window. If he squinted, he would almost be able to see that wild mane of hair. 

\- Are you alright? - Asked his mother, putting some food into her plate. - You look pale.

\- I'm... fine. - He answered. They didn't ask any more questions, even though they had been out for the entire day. Thankfully, his mother had forgotten the whole hickey question very quickly once he came up with an excuse about tripping down some steps, and since he met up with Dab at the Howlter's house, they had no clue of what was going on. And it was supposed to be kept that way.

Having dinner in complete silence wasn't fun, but Evan was used to it. He prefered the sound of the cutlery lightly scratching the plates to the sound of yelling and passive-agressive comments, and he wasn't feeling like talking much, anyway. The things he had said just a few hours before were going round and around his head, tasting bitter in his mouth every time he remembered saying them. 

Evan had never been brave. He grew up being scared of heights, spiders, the dark, and Dab's tales of monsters under beds made him shiver. But in Dab's bed, looking him in the eyes, he had felt brave for just one second, one tiny, tiny second in those 473040000 that he could have used in his favor. He had almost said that he loved him, as in a goodbye.

And then, he remembered that it was goodbye. That is was too late anyway, no matter what he said. Even if Dab loved him back, that wouldn't magically turn back the time. 

So why ruin everything with feelings? Dab was in love with somebody else, anyway. There were too many secrets, and too many things going on, and too many _feelings_. God, he hated those goddamn things!

He was just getting up to go to his room and be moody again when his father stopped him.

\- Oh, by the way. - Evan freezed, waiting another bomb-shell announcement. What was it now? Were they going to tell him he was adopted? After 17 years living with them, Evan kind of hoped he was. - I'm going downtown tomorrow. Thought you may want to go to. You know, get out of the house. Go to the library. I know you love that place.

There was a quick look between his parents, one that passed almost unnoticed, and Evan wondered about how much did they know about what had actually been going on during the last two weeks.

-...Sure?

\- Ok then.

He waited to see if his father would say anything else, but he was out of luck. Trying to have a conversation with that man was as useful as taking the water out of a leaking boat with a tea spoon. 

Evan went unbothered for the rest of the night, left alone to wallow in self-pity all by himself. And he was happy that way. Besides, a divorcing couple wasn't the best source of advice for his romantic life. He actually wished he could cross the street and ask Mr and Mrs Howlter for advice. If only it wasn't weird. 

It wouldn't be awkward him showing up at the middle of the night a few years, maybe even a few months ago. When his crush was a soft, almost latent thing, just there on a corner of his mind and keeping away from his business. A few years before, he could have sneaked out through the back door and get in through Dab's window, so they could talk about whatever they wanted, was it school, parents or those weird tentacles that were always under his bed. Now, he was afraid things were too complicated for him to do that. He was scared that if he looked at Dab again, he wouldn't be able to hold back anymore.

 _Monday will be a nightmare._ He thought, as he slowly fell asleep. It was way past midnight, and he had to wake up soon. He could pratically hear himself groan in protest when his father came to wake him up.

And he wasn't wrong. Waking up was a nightmare, especially when he heard the sound of Susan's motor coming to life, making bile rise up his throat.

So it was starting. First it was a campus trip, and then he was leaving for good. He was getting a new chapter, while Evan felt he had lost himself somewhere inside his own book. After all, what was he doing with his life? He was a dog chasing it's own tail, always coming back to the same point: he was in love, and knowing his dumb crush wouldn't go anywhere hurt him a little more everyday.

Evan had to wait until the noise was gone so he could get up. He got dressed and brushed his teeth, not looking outside not even once, eyes focused on a point in front of him, like the wall was the most interesting thing ever created by man. 

His father was already having coffee on the kitchen. He didn't ask where his mother was, since he knew the only answer he would get would be a shrinking of the shoulders.

\- So, where are we going? - He asked, sitting down with a bowl of cereal.

\- I just have to get some things done, but you can stay at the library. Take your books and stuff. - Evan wondered if his parents were aware that he didn something else besides studying and reading. - Are you holding up ok with this whole divorce thing?

\- What do you think?

He hadn't intended to sound rude, but his voice came out way more harsh than he expected. Evan sometimes feared how much he sounded like his mother when he got angry, making everybody flinch a little. Even Dab seemed disturbed by how...

No. He had to put an end to those intrusive thoughts about Dab and what Dab thought and what Dab felt. He was leaving. And Evan was staying. Simple as that.

\- I suppose it's hard on you. - Like always, his father turned his head down, like a kicked puppy. - I'm... sorry. I really am.

Evan put down his bowl, feeling his chest tightening. Like saying he was sorry was going to change anything at all, all of those years of staring at other families with envy. No amount of apologies would make up for 17 years of yelling and forgetting about him. 

\- We should go. - He said, getting up. - I'll go get my backpack.

He rushed upstairs before his father was even opening his mouth again. Evan did not have the time or the patience to listen to him mumble some phrase copied from one of his mother's soccer mom books about divorce and raising children. For all of his life, he had seen those books on every surface of the house, like they were showing the world that hey, at least they were trying.

It was getting tiring, living in that house, in that street. Now that he looked back, he couldn't find anything good about that house that wasn't associated to Dab. Those perfectly coordinated furniture and silent hallways meant nothing to him, the flowers in the garden had no meaning if they weren't being held by those long, pale fingers, twisting them into flower crowns during lazy springs, dark curls and petals in soft pinks and purples becoming almost one. And now that the owner of those fingers was gone, the flowers were just flowers.

He missed the times when flowers were potential crowns. He missed Dab's fingers brushing against his cheek as he layed a crown over his head, how his shorter hair made the flowers slide down to his nose, making him sneeze from the polen. 

No, it wasn't spring anymore, and they weren't the same children who could play around with no care in the world.

His backpack was where he had left it the day before, basically forgotten after he had rushed out of Dab's house. He quickly grabbed a few books from his desk, without even looking, and went back downstairs, where his father was already waiting for him. 

\- Ready? - He asked. Evan nodded. 

The threat of rain was now a certainty. As the car slowly made it's way over the quiet road, Evan couldn't tear his eyes away from the grey clouds in the sky, thankful for the umbrella they had in the car. There was almost nobody in the street, since most people were smart enough to avoid going outside with such weather. Usually, Evan used rainy days as an excuse to lock himself in his room in a blanket burrito. He had no idea why he was outside.

\- So, how are you?

Evan turned his head slightly, caught off-guard by the question. That wasn't an attempt at small talk, was it? He was sure he would rather throw himself off the car than make small talk with his father. 

\- I'm... fine. I guess.

\- Really? Even with Dab going to a different school? - Evan let out an exasperated sigh. No matter where he was or what he was trying to do, it seemed like the goddamn topic would not leave him alone.  

\- Yes, I'm fine. - He mumbled. - 100%. I mean, why would I care?

There was a long pause. Deep breath. Long sigh. None of those were good things.

\- You do realize that I'm not that dumb, right? The entire neighbourhood knows you two are... uh... hanging out. In private. - If Evan had been drinking water, he would have spat it. His eyes shot towards the door's handle. Maybe it wasn't too late to... - I already locked that door, so don't try to throw yourself off the car to avoid a conversation _again_. 

Well, there went his plan.

\- How did you find out? - He asked, burying his face in his hands.

\- Oh, your mother told me. - Evan cursed under his breath. His mother had a way of getting all of the neighbourhood's gossip at record speed. - And I thought it would be a good time for us to... talk. About important things.

That was just getting better and better.

\- This is not the birds and the bees talk, right? Because we already had that conversation.

\- No, no. - Evan watched as his father blushed, as flustered as he was. Now he knew where he had gotten his awkwardness from. - I actually wanted to give you some advice.

\- You wanted to give me what now? - Evan scoffed, rolling his eyes. - Pray tell, currently divorcing man, what wise advice do you have to offer me?

He already knew where that was going. That talk everybody gives you when you fall in love with someone totally off limits, the one where they tell you there is plenty of fish in the sea, that time will heal all wounds. Like Evan hadn't been reciting those things to himself, trying to find any sense in cliche advice that didn't really solve anything. He was just waiting for something similar to fall out of his dad's mouth. But then...

\- I think you two should go for it.

\- Wait, what?

\- You love him. It's obvious that he loves you. But have you ever thought of telling him that? I mean, I know it could be a little hard, with the distance and such, but you two could still make it work. I think.

Thinking. Thinking of love and confessions and relationships. It was all so easy, everything trapped in a nice little daydream, just off-reach enough for Evan to believe that maybe, if he stretched his hand, he would be able to touch it. 

And thinking was easy. Talking was not.

\- Oh, look, here we are! - He exclamed, pointing to the library on the other side of the window! - Bye now, you can unlock the door!

Evan grabbed an umbrella from the backseat and flung himself into the cold air outside, rushing into the library with his eyes on the ground and his heart racing. Just the thought of his parents knowing he liked Dab was enough to make him feel like his face was on fire. And he wasn't sure that his parents actively supporting his relationship made it any less awkward. 

The library was almost completely empty, if you didn't count some people quietly reading by themselves. Evan breathed in the air filled with the smell of mahogany and old paper, and a tense smile crept over his face. At least there he could calm himself, do some homework, maybe even read something. He couldn't remember the last time he had entered that library just to read for pleasure. 

He sat down next to a window, letting the greyish light pour into the table in front of him, and emptied his backpack. Yes, that would help him calm down, solving equations and reading about trigonometry or something like that. There was nothing distracting him...

Until he heard the sound of something plastic hitting the table.

Somehow, as if fate was mocking him, the mixtape he had been doing for Dab had ended up between his stuff. He couldn't remember taking the cassette out of it's assigned drawer, but it was there with him, smaller than his palm but feeling bigger than the table itself. Evan had been giving that dumb cassette more thought than he cared to admit, although he didn't have that many songs. 

It's not easy to define your feelings for someone in songs. It's even harder to show those feelings.

 _Put it away._ He thought, still staring at the cassette. _Throw it in the trash. Forget about it._

It demanded his attention, a pointed finger, an accusation that he had, at one point, probably thought about playing those songs to Dab. The damn thing was throwing his feelings right at his face, reminding him of how much of a coward he was. How he wasn't even brave enough to throw away some dumb piece of plastic full of bad memories. Reminding him of picking songs, soft lips and a laugh that sounded like music still swimming around his brain.

 _This is useless._ Relutanctly, he grabbed a textbook and opened, trying to muffle his thoughts with formulas and chemicals with long and difficult names. _What am I even going to use this for? It's more of a paperweight than anything else._

No, it wasn't a paperweight. It was lost nights staring at the ceiling, and summers spent chasing frogs and butterflies. It was a hand of long fingers reaching out to tickle him, or pulling him inside the swimming pool. It was the past, a past so precious that only now Evan realized how scared he was to loose it, how much he wanted that past to continue into a present. A past where he didn't have to measure how many inches separated them, how many seconds they had left before they parted ways. 

Every thought was interrupted by a mental scolding to go back to studying, but the overwhelming silence of the library wasn't necessarily helping. The gentle tapping of rain on the window simply made him feel sleepy, a dream-like state. As always, logic failed to help him with his love life.

 _It would be a lot more easier if Dab was the one to say anything._ He thought, letting a sigh fall out. Of course that wasn't happening. Dab was in love with someone else, and Evan was probably just a consolation prize. In the end, it always came back to that. He was in love like an idiot, but that love was one-sided and destined to end soon, so there was nothing he could do but suffer in silence.

If he didn't say anything, Dab would leave and whatever their "relationship" was would end. If he did say anything, it would end anyway. Authentic Catch-22.

Then, what did he have to loose?

His hand clutched the cassette, and without him even realizing, he had stuffed his books inside his backpack again and left the library, umbrella in hand, marching towards his house. Evan rarely showed any bravado, but the situation truly called for it. He was going to his house, he was finishing the mixtape with a last song, and he was going to meet Dab, he was going to shove it in his face and he was going to leave. Yes, Dab was miles away, but he didn't really have a lot of time to put into that at the moment. So he just marched. 

It was easy to find refuge in dusty pages full of symbols that gave most people headaches. But if his dumb feelings insisted on lodging inside his brain, refusing to let him concentrate, then it was time to deal with them. If that meant embarassing himself in front of his best friend and crush, then so be it. It wasn't like he had any self-esteem left.

And sure, he was scared. He could feel his heart in his chest, each beat as fast as the drops of rain falling on the pavement around his feet. He was scared he was ruining one of the few good things he still had in his life. And yes, the only thing he wanted was for everything to suddenly become easier, for Dab to tell him he loved him, for the clock to turn back if not a few years, then at least a few months.

Yes, Evan Pancakes was actually finishing his mixtape. He got home, hurried upstairs, and went through his CDs before finding the one with the song he was looking for. And just as he was done, he rushed out of the house, ready to find Dab Howlter and tell him exactly what he had trying to choke back for all of those 180 months, 5475 days, 131400 hours, 7884000 minutes and 473040000 seconds: I love you.

Like a soldier walking towards a battle, Evan marched away from his street. Unknown to him, as soon as he had turned the corner, Susan the car appeared from the other side of the street, parking in front of the Howlter house. Dab had just missed him by seconds. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, it's almost over! Only one chapter!  
> So what do you think that will happen? Will Dab and Evan end up together? Get ready, because the finale is almost here!


	11. for him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's here! The great conclusion! Ensues confusion, rain and confessions!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by for him, song by Troye Sivan.

Sometimes you have to admit it: you've been an idiot.

You said something you shouldn't. You made a joke that was too dark. Or you ignored something for too long, and now it had exploded all over the place, leaving you in the middle thinking you should have done something before.

As Dab rushed inside of his house, tripping on his own feet and feeling like there were sirens blasting inside of his head, he understood that he had been an idiot. As he opened the door to his bedroom and started searching his desk for the damn cassette, he couldn't muffle out the curse words falling from his mouth. God, why did he never clean his desk? It would make everything much more easier.

There were a lot of things rushing through his brain as he tossed papers and pencils above his shoulders. A sky full of starts, grass under his body and Evan's presence next to him. Mrs. Pancake's lemonade on a hot summer's day, spitting his drink out when Evan sneaked out behind Dab and startled him. The floorboards of the bowling alley squeaking under their feet as they ran, slipping and falling. 

God, where was that goddamned cassette, anyways?

His fingers finally found the hard plastic and he smiled. Just as fast as he had rushed inside of the house, he darted into the rain, hiding the mixtape inside his jacket so it wouldn't be damaged by the water. When he reached the house on the other side of the street, he was already soaking wet.

\- Evan! - He called, banging on the front door. He knew his best friend, and it basically took a miracle to make him leave his bedroom on a weekend. So it was more than a little weird that nobody was answering. - Evan, come on! Open up!

There was a sound behind his back, and he turned to see a car parking, and Mr. Pancakes stepping out.

\- Oh, hey Dab. - He said, opening up an umbrella and stepping closer to him. - What are you doing here?

\- Mr. Pancakes, why is no one answering?

\- Well, my wife is out and Evan... - There was a moment where all expression left Mr. Pancake's face, and then he slapped a hand on his forehead. - Damn! I forgot about him in the library! God, why does this keep happening to me? This is just like that time I forgot about him in the supermarket... and at the boys scouts camping trip... and at...

\- He's at the library?

Before Bob could say anything else, Dab was already rushing into the car, still holding the mixtape next to his heart. 

***

\- What do you mean there are no trains?!

\- I mean that the weather is so bad that we were told it wouldn't be safe. - The girl selling tickets shrugged. - It's raining really badly. And I heard it's going to get worse.

Evan took a deep breath. That could not be happening.

\- Listen, I really need to get to San Myshuno. It's an emergency, you see?

The girl gave him a deadpan look. 

\- Is someone dying?

\- Well... no.

\- Will someone die if you don't get a train right now?

\- Not really.

She reached for a bottle of nail polish and started painting her nails, ignoring him from then on.

\- So I thought.

Evan sighed, opening his umbrella and heading out of the train station with a headache forming. 

Of course there were no trains to San Myshuno. Of course he was stuck there, right when he had decided it was time to confess his feelings to Dab. And sure, he knew he could wait until he was back. But there was a voice on the back of his head telling him it had to be then, at the moment, as soon as possible. No time like today, or something like that. 

With his eyes on the clouds, he wondered what Dab was doing at the moment. Was he still in his campus tour, surrounded by people and ready to start a new life away from Evan and Willow Creek? In a few months, would he even remember him, the boy that used to ride in his passenger seat and help him with homework, even though he kept getting distracted?

He was already starting to feel like a long lost memory, a face hanging in a mist made by years passing and new passions forming. 

\- Hey, son! - His father's voice made him realize he had already passed his own house. - Sorry for forgetting about you at the library.

\- That's alright. - In complete honesty, Evan had also forgotten about his father. But in his own defence, he was in the middle of a romantic crisis. At the time, he could only think about making it to San Myshuno.

\- You came alone? - Evan nodded. - Huh, that's weird. I thought that Howlter kid was going to pick you up.

Evan blinked, slightly surprised.

\- Dad, Dab's in a campus tour miles away. Why would he pick me up from the library?

\- Uh, he stopped here some time ago? 

Dab was there. Dab was looking for him. And he had just missed him.

\- Oh, god damn it! - Of course that as soon as Evan was gone, Dab decided to drop by. Because his life was just unfair like that. 

Before he could really think about what he was doing, Evan turned his back and sprinted towards the library, hoping that that beautiful idiot he was in love with hadn't left already. And Bob Pancakes was left hanging mid sentence twice in the same day.

***

\- Evan? Evan? Evan, are you here?! - A loud shush from the disgruntled librarian interrupted Dab's search. - Sorry. Just looking for my friend.

It seemed that the more Dab looked for that boy, he found a way to disappear. He had looked in every corner of the library, feeling the outraged looks of the readers who had to watch a confused teenager yell around for around 10 minutes. And now, he was actually starting to go crazy. Evan spent his entire locked inside of his room without leaving, and just as Dab wanted to talk to him, he decided to go on a jolly ride around town?

Dab bit his lip, sending a quick look around the room. He had already checked every corner of that library, even startling a poor old gentleman when he had barged into the bathroom screaming Evan's name. 

He slid his hands to his hair, feeling it a little moist from the rain, and looked over his shoulder, in the direction of the disgruntled librarian, lips twisted in a frown.

It was of no use staying there, anyway. Apparently Evan couldn't stay put for a second just so he could get over with that dumb confession. Besides, he was starting to get hungry.

There was a coffeeshop down the street, he didn't even have to drive there. Trembling when the drops of rain started hitting him again, Dab rushed down the street with his hands in his pockets. The inside of the coffeeshop was warm, and there was food, which was a plus. Dab bought a coffee cup and a muffin and sat down in a table for one, eating while staring at the other people around him. A sickeningly sweet couple was sitting just a few tables away from him, giving each other so many kisses and calling each other so many pet names they were practically giving everybody Type 2 diabetes.

Dab took a bite from his muffin, grumbling to himself. He usually had Evan with him to make fun of those couples. It was a lot more fun, because then they sounded gladfully single and uncompromised. Alone, with his hair and clothes wet from the rain, eating a muffin like it was his last meal alive and it honestly wasn't even that good, Dab just looked miserable.

His hair was terribly damp from the rain. It felt uncomfortable against his neck.

There was a bathroom on the other side of the room. He rushed inside, hoping no one would take his seat, and closed the door behind himself to look at the mirror. 

He looked terrible. Big, scared eyes. Hair falling on the sides of his face like dark ropes, the curls flattened by the rain. His clothes clinged to his body (at least the mixtape was safe, tucked into an inside pocket), making him look skinny and frail. And if the mirror was able to show how he was inside, it would be even more depressing. Because Dab was truly, completely lost. 

Why was he even doing that? What was he doing there, in a coffeeshop's bathroom, trying to find the courage to find his best friend and ruin their friendship, possibly their lifes. Why, when he could be making a path out of Willow Creek, away from Evan's soft eyes and the way he made his heart seem like it was being clutched. He knew there was nobody else out there that could make him feel that way. And he couldn't understand whether that was good or bad.

He gave his reflection a longer look. If a dude like that came to him and made a love declaration, he wouldn't accept, even if he payed him. 

He tried his best to dry himself with paper towels, and faked a smile that was only a pale shadow of the usual bright and confident smile that so often grazed his lips. He didn't have time to feel sorry about himself. He had to find Evan and tell him the truth.

His phone buzzed. With a hand still running through his hair with a paper towel, he grabbed it out of his pocket, only to read a short message that somehow still managed to make him yelp.

**Can you meet me in the park at 5 pm? Please?**

It was Evan. A message from Evan. Telling him he would be at a place, and he would be able to find him. No more serendipity, no more getting there just a minute, a second too late. He had a chance.

He didn't even question why Evan wanted to meet up with him. He hurried to give him an answer, telling him he would be there, heart in his hands and nothing but the truth. He was eager. So eager he didn't notice when he phone started slipping from his fingers. In fact, he only noticed when his phone was already out of his reach, half-way across the floor. 

The device hit the bathroom's floor with a sound of glass breaking. Dab held back a curse when he grabbed it again, seeing a long crack across the screen. 

The screen was pitch black. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring it back to life again. It was broken. There was no way to answer Evan.

\- I better hurry. - He said, sending his image another look. - Wish me luck.

***

Although Dab Howlter had a loving family and a best friend that most people would trade everything for, he wasn't exactly lucky. And you can tell this because fate itself tried to play pranks on him.

If Dab Howlter was a lucky person, his gut would have told him to stay at the library, because in only a few minutes Evan Pancakes, the boy he was looking for, would be there, cheeks flushed from walking and umbrella in hand. Because he wasn't a lucky person, Evan arrived to an almost empty library, no sight of his best friend. And if Dab Howlter was, indeed, a lucky person, he wouldn't have gone to the bathroom. Because as soon as a door closed behind his back, another one opened.

Evan was having a terrible day. The barista could tell, since he seemed like he was about to pass out. Also, because he ordered a black coffee like he was a man drowning and that coffee was a rope that would pull him back to earth. 

With his umbrella closed and a coffee in hand, Evan took a lonely seat in a table where someone had left a half-eaten muffin and a cup of coffee. And without even flinching, he downed the entire coffee.

You see, when you see someone downing a steaming black coffee with no sugar or cream, and you see them to that with a blank expression, you know something's wrong.

In fact, there was something very wrong. You see, Evan Pancakes was in love with his best friend. But this is chapter 11, and if you haven't reached that conclusion yet, you haven't been paying attention. So that problem was already established, wasn't it? But now a different problem emerged: he wanted to tell him the truth. But he didn't even know where he was to start with. 

That shouldn't be a surprise. That had always been the problem to begind with: Dab was a boy that seemed made of wind. He never stopped, he was never in the same place for very long. Now he's hanging out with the jocks, and now he's hanging out with Evan. Now he's here, now he's there. Now he's in Willow Creek, give it some time and he'll be in San Myshuno. 

It's hard loving someone you can't pin down. It's even harder loving someone who is your complete foil. Evan didn't need anyone to pin him down, because he already did that to himself in the first place. Sure, he had those silly talks about travelling, leaving, seeing the world. But truth be told, he liked Willow Creek. He liked walking by the river, he liked how quiet the streets were. A big city filled with skyscrapers and cars was the last thing he wanted in his life. And where was Dab headed?

That was it, that was the one thing stopping Evan from falling in his knees in front of Dab and showing all those disgusting, mushy feelings. Dab was a midnight sky full of stars, a blue sea in the middle of the summer, water so clear you could see the rocks deep below. He was the doodles he would make on Evan's knuckles with a pen while he wasn't paying attention, little waves of ink cascading down to his wrist. He was lips turned an icy color after swimming for too long in waters too cold, but twisted into a smile full of energy. 

And what was Evan, compared to that? A lame red, that only became beautiful with Dab's shades of blue mixed in.

\- Just get it over with. - He whispered to himself, knowing full well he was going down a path with no return. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Evan texted Dab a quick message asking to meet him at the park. His finger hovered over the lines for just a second, feeling his heart clutching inside his chest. And then, it was sent and the evil deed was done.

After that, he grabbed his umbrella and stepped out of the coffeeshop, sighing under the attack of the rain.

It was almost 5 pm, anyway. That would be over soon. He could already see himself in a few years, with Dab away, living a fantastic life, while Evan stayed behind, nurturing his unrequited love like it was one of his mother's flowers, long purple petals stretching out towards an unreachable sun.

But as long as that sun kept him warm, could he really complain?

***

\- I wish I had figured this out years ago... Before this whole mess... But all I want to say, even if you hate me after this, is that... Argh! - Dab hit his hands against the steering wheel, groaning in frustration.

Now that he was sitting in his car, ready to meet Evan, he couldn't help but wonder what the hell he was doing, and more importantly, what he was going to say. He couldn't just say "love you" and leave. Things didn't work like that. Evan deserved a speech worthy of being in a John Hughes movie. And Dab currently had a big ol' bag of nothing.

He couldn't even get himself to turn the engine on. All he could do was sit there, soaking wet, water running down his face and hair, staring into his own hands, completely clueless. Which wasn't a state that he wasn't too familiar with, to be honest. Dab was clueless about a lot of things. Math. Geography. Chemistry. Cooking. I could go on, but I feel we're getting kind of off topic here. 

The thing he was most clueless about was, ironically, Evan Pancakes. The boy he knew like the palm of his hand. He knew how he liked his coffee (black, no cream, no sugar) and he knew how he liked to be kissed (softly, but with some bitting of the lower lip). He knew Evan better than he knew himself. So why couldn't he find a name for what they had, for what he felt?

\- Uh, you're the peanut butter to my jelly! - He tried once again, looking at his reflection in the rearview mirror. Did he look too desperate? He felt too desperate. - You're the panic to my disco! God, what am I doing with my life?

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the steering wheel, feeling images flash across his eyes. His skin, sunburnt after spending too much time outside with no sunscreen, and Evan's hand covering it in aloe vera, the sound of his tongue clicking against his teeth as he said "I told you so". Evan's lips turned cherry red, puckered after eating too much sour candy. Blood tricking down their knees after they had fallen on the road chasing each other. Their fingertips turned crimson after stealing berries from a neighbours garden. Sunsets that turned the whole sky into an explosion, a blush creeping over Evan's cheeks as Dab made a joke that was a little too dirty.

And next to that warmth, Dab, in his blue shirt and blue paint under his nails. Either electric like a neon sign or faded like the sky at dawn. Never constable, wishing for that stability and sweetness that came with Evan, shades of purple, amethyst and violet and lavender.

What word could describe it?

He raised his head once again, staring at his reflection in the rear view mirror.

\- I love you, and I need you, and I can't continue living knowing that you have no idea about how much I adore you and how much I love the fact that the universe put us together to complement each other.

Dab's mouth twisted, as if he was tasting the words. It wasn't much, but it was... something. It was true, and spoken from the heart. So it was enough.

He turned the key in the ignition, waiting for Susan's motor to spring into life. He waited for a minute or so before he started to get worried. And then, he understood. Susan really wasn't having it.

\- Oh, c'mon girl! You can do this! - He said, tapping the steering wheel. The car remained in the same spot, dead, cold and silent.

She really couldn't do it.

He glanced towards the clock, feeling his stomach sink as he saw 5 pm nearing. And in a spur, without even really thinking about what he was doing, Dab opened the door and stepped out, feeling the cold rain hit his face with a violence he wasn't expecting. The rain was getting worse, but Dab wasn't giving up. Lowering his head and bringing his jacket closer to his body (the mixtape still in his inside pocket, beating like a second heart), Dab started running.

***

Have you ever stood for a minute?

Now doing anything, really. Just standing, no moving, no speaking. Sometimes, it can be torture. Especially if you’re nervous, because you feel like the only thing your body wants is to move, to jump, to fidget.

That was how Evan felt. Because while he wanted to do something, he couldn’t bring himself to move. All he could do was stare at his clock, at the pointers sil. 16:59. One minute, and it would be 5 pm.

60 seconds.

At that stage, he started wondering whether Dab would even show up. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted Dab to show up, because if he did, then there was no turning back. He would have to look at him and tell him everything, how his feelings had stopped being innocent a long time ago, how he was practically going mad with each day passing.

Because he was going mad, with the gentle tap of the rain on the umbrella above his head and with the loud thunder of his blood on his ears. His heart was racing in a way that didn’t feel any bit healthy, like the butterflies that had been living in his stomach were making their way up to his chest and filling his lungs and heart.

Who had given that damn boy the right to make him feel like that? If it wasn’t for Dab, Evan would feel that blissful nothing that most people felt. He wasn’t made for feelings, he was made for cold facts and numbers.

30 seconds.

Could he be a feelings person? He guessed humans were supposed to feel things, but it wasn’t pleasant feeling alone. He wondered whether having your feelings corresponded felt different, but of course it felt. Being in love alone was... well, lonely. Having someone love you back was different. Loving was always hard, but loving with someone by your side showed you that love was worth it, and that a few tears couldn’t drown out happiness.

No, tears couldn’t, but could rain? Could distance, could two personalities that had nothing to do with each other?

Less than 30 seconds now, he still had time to run, to go back to his boring little life and get ready to spend it alone. He didn’t have to do that, put his heart on the line, on the hands of that beautiful idiot, knowing he had just given Dab the power to break it in two and leave the pieces behind as he moved on.

But what was he thinking? He had placed his heart on Dab’s hands many years before, when he hadn’t even noticed he was doing it. Evan had fallen in love like he was walking into a florest, and without him even realizing, the trees had swallowed him whole and there was no way he could turn back and go home.

5 seconds.

Deep breaths. Quick heartbeat. Fingers clutching the umbrella so tightly his knuckles were growing pale.

  1. 4\. 3. 2. 1.



He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he expected to see Dab there, somehow. Rising from the mud and the lake, just waiting for him to go there and throw a bunch of unwanted feelings onto his lap.

But there was only rain.

Evan waited. He waited until he felt his chest twist in a familiar way, a way that told him he was making a fool of himself. Because, after all, why would Dab even show up? Why, when he could have any boy or girl in miles if he just smiled and flirted for a little? Evan had seen how people reacted to Dab's grins and winks. He knew how _he_ reacted to them. Dab was probably already friends witht he entire campus, he had no more time to waste with him. 

With a heavy heart, Evan started wondering whether he had missed his chance. Whether he should have lunged forward in one of those millions of days spent together, so he could have gotten Dab when he still had the time, before the entire world started falling for him. Before he found himself by the lakeside, fidgeting with his umbrella's handle. Time waited for no one, and neither did love.

And so, he started walking away.

***

He wasn't there.

When Dab reached the lake, with his face covered in water (he wasn't sure what percentage was rain and what was sweat) and his clothes sticking to his body, he expected to see him. But there was no one there: even the ducks were gone, smart enough to find a place safe from the rain. He was the only person in sight

Looking back, many things had led Dab Howlter to stand alone on the lake, rain fustigating his body. Just that day, he had seen his new school, the place where he would be going to college in a matter of months. That trip had made him understand he loved Evan and couldn't stand lying to him anymore. Realizing that had made him hop back into his car and drive back to Willow Creek, just to find out Evan wasn't there. And after a whole damn mess, he found himself standing there, like a fool, biting his lips to stop the tears from coming.

Or maybe it had started a few weeks before, right in front of Evan's house, in that car, after that ride. Or the goddamn second Dab had decided to make that goddamn mixtape, now resting against his heart. Or that one moment where he had understood he was head over heels and not coming back. Or one of the thousands of moments in all of those years.

Maybe it all started on that quiet suburban street, with a todler with wild hair and a kid that was more baby than anything else, hiding behind his mother's leg.

It didn't matter where it had started, because it had ended. Dab was at the end of the line, alone in the park, under the heavy rain.

With weak knees, he fell to the ground, feeling the slippery mud under him and the big, fat drops falling on his face. With each passing second, he understood what was happening a little more. Evan wasn't there. Evan probably thinked he didn't care. Evan probably hated him. Evan probably never wanted to see him again. And running back to Willow Creek, being under that rain that made his frozen to the bones... It meant nothing.

Rain. The rain had stopped hitting him, but it was still falling around him.

Dab raised his eyes. Above him was an umbrella.

\- I was just about to leave. - The boy standing behind him protecting him from the rain ushered closer. - But then I saw you. So I came back.

Dab shot up, forgetting about how he looked for a second. He was so cold, but Evan looked so warm, even in the pouring rain. There was a small smile in his lips, although the hand gripping the umbrella was shaking. 

\- Evan. - He sounded like a little kid who had gotten lost. He had spent all that time planning something to say, and now this? - I... I... Can you give me your hand? Just for a sec?

He reached inside his pocket, feeling the thankfully dry cassette. He hesitated, asking himself what Evan would do once he explained what it was. But he had made such a long way... it wasn't time to give up.

\- What's this? - Evan asked, turning the cassette between his fingers.

\- It's... a mixtape. Songs that remind me of you... us... - Dab managed a small, awkward smile. - Remember when I said I was working on something, a few months ago? Well... there's that.

For a second, Evan showed no reaction. And then, he chuckled.

\- Unbelievable. - He said, reaching inside his own pocket and pulling out a cassette in all identical to Dab's, placing it in his hand. - I mean, what are the odds?

They laughed as their put their gifts inside their pockets, and Dab was painfully aware of how close they were to each other under that umbrella. He could feel Evan's breath hot against his cold cheek, he swore he could hear his pulse. If they only gave one step closer.

\- So, I needed to talk to you about...

He stopped, catching hold of Evan's eyes for a second. His cheeks were flushed, his lips were quivering. He seemed like he was about to explode.

And then he lunged forward and kissed him, and Dab felt like he had been hit by a wall of flames. 

\- I'm sorry. - He said, pulling back a little, so there was a little distance between them but Dab was still under the umbrella. - I just... I've been meaning to tell you...

\- I love you. - They said, at the same time. 

There was silence. And then Dab felt the air come alive with his laughter, even in the rain. He draped his arms across Evan's shoulders, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

_He loves me. He loves me._

When they kissed that time, it was different. There was no secret left, it was all in the open. They were as free as the rain, young and dizzy and drunk in love, loosing their footing in the wet ground until they fell, Evan on his back, umbrella ending up a few feet away, mud under their fingers and on their faces as they kissed, a hurricane of hungry mouths and violent rain, laughs escaping their lips as they felt time slip away. It tasted like honey, like the years that had passed and the many, many more that were still to come.

\- Wait. - Evan pulled away slightly. - What about San Myshuno? Do we... like... make it long distance?

Dab rested his forehead against his.

\- We'll make it work. We always do.

\- I just... - Evan's fingers traced the bones of Dab's face, leaving a mark of mud. - I can't believe you love me. I can't... I can't believe you're my boyfriend. This is just too good to be true.

\- And I can't believe I'm with the most beautiful boy in all of Willow Creek. No, scratch that. The world.

\- And I can't believe I'm not officially dating the sappiest sucker alive.

Ten minutes later, walking out of the park, covered in mud and water, arms over each other's waists, Evan planted a kiss on his cheekbone.

\- I can't believe you came running under this rain to come see me.

\- It was worth it. Believe it. - Dab bit his lip, swollen from kissing. - And now we're gonna go home, and I'm going to get myself some dry clothes. Meanwhile, you're going to tell me everything you love about me... - He smiled, tasting the next word, all it meant to him under that grey sky. - Boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now it comes the time for me to be all sappy. I want to thank everybody that read, left kudos, comments and motivated me to continue writing. You were all so kind and involved, and I loved sharing this fanfic with you. Thank you.  
> You have no idea how much I loved writing this fic. Everyone's been nothing but supportive and kind, and this has been a wonderful experience.  
> Also, if you'd like to read more of my things, I will be posting a new fanfic soon, so if you like Klance and angst (Klangst?), you've come to the right place.  
> Anyway, see you guys soon!


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